pe 

felly, />.  2 


ft    tofi'i 


X     is, 


L YT  ERI A  : 


A    DRAMATIC     POEM 


BOSTON: 
TICKXOR    AND    FIELDS. 

M  DCCCL1V. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  185-1,  by 

T  I  C  K  N  O  II     AND     FIELDS, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


BOSTON: 
THCRSTON,  TORKY,  AXD  F.ME'iSOK,  PRINTERS. 


PREFACE. 


There  is  a  beautiful  thought  somewhere 
expressed  by  Jean  Paul  Richter,  that,  to  the 
Unseen  Spirit,  each  age  of  the  world  appears 
far  more  noble,  than  in  the  record  it  leaves 
behind.  History  and  tradition  tell  us  chiefly 
of  the  self-sacrifice  of  men;  while  another  class 
of  heroic  deeds  —  those  wrought  by  woman  in 
her  social  relations,  and  consequently  unsus- 
tained  by  present  applause,  or  the  hope  of 
future  fame  —  are  unchronicled. 

The  purpose  of  the  following  poem  is  to  ex 
hibit  feminine  devotion,  put  to  the  highest 
possible  proof;  thereby  to  suggest  how  often 
the  greatest  achievements  of  man  result  from 
domestic  promptings,  given  through  personal 
suffering,  that  the  world  suspects,  as  little  as 
it  could  understand. 

The  liberties  taken  with  the  tradition  of  the 
Curtian  leap  in  its  present  dramatic  form,  are 

206212'! 


IV  PREFACE. 

excused  by  precedents  too  common  and  well 
known  to  be  quoted.  The  noxious  exhalations 
of  the  gulf  (which  have  actually  attended 
similar  fissures)  must  be  supposed,  in  order  to 
create  a  necessity  sufficiently  strong  for  so 
great  a  sacrifice. 

An  approach  has  been  made  to  the  unities 
of  time  and  place.  The  incidents  of  each  act 
are  given  in  a  single  scene,  and  the  period  of 
action  is  less  than  three  days. 

In  attempting  this  most  difficult  form  of 
composition,  —  a  dramatic  poem  of  artistic  con 
struction,  elevated  sentiment,  and  forcible  dic 
tion, —  a  strong  sense  was  entertained  of  the 
many  requirements,  and  consequent  possibili 
ties  of  failure,  attending  its  execution.  It  was 
also  not  forgotten  that  such  a  production,  even 
when  good,  is  to  the  taste  of  comparatively 
few,  and  can  seldom  meet  the  success  of  gen 
eral  popularity. 

Several  lines,  purposely  incomplete,  will  be 
found  throughout  the  poem.  Indebtedness  is 
likewise  acknowledged  to  the  novel  Zanoni, 
for  the  suggestion  of  one  or  two  passages  in 
the  first  act. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 

Lucius  GENUCIUS —  Consul. 

DCELIUS  —  High  Priest  in  the  Temple  of  Jupiter. 

MARCUS  CURTIUS  —  A  noble  Roman. 

AULUS  AND  PROTIIUS —  Priests  of  Jupiter. 

PUBLIUS — Friend  to  Curtius. 

LYTEEIA  —  Daughter  to  Dalius. 

SCENF  --Rome. 


ACT  I. 

Apartment  in  the    Temple  of  Jupiter  —  Arch  at 

Centre  —  Doors  seen  through  the  Arch. 

Daslius  discovered.     Enter  Aulus. 

DGELIUS. 

THE  lengthening  shadows  tell  the  hour  of  prayer 
Will  soon  revisit  us.     Is  all  prepared 
For  evening  sacrifice  ?  —  our  altars  heap'd 
With  choicest  fruits  that  frugal  Earth  provides, 
To  pay  her  children's  labor  ?  —  For  this  night, 
That  finds  our  city  bathed  in  quietness 
So  perfect,  asks  a  bloodless  offering. 

AUtUS. 

All  is   prepared.      Each   shrine   is   decked   for 

service ;  — 

Yet  I  had  thought,  upon  these  festivals, 
When  men  have  clamor'd  the  high  praise  of  Jove, 
For  hours  in  his  temple,  't  was  our  custom 


8  LYTERIA : 

To  leave  unsaid  the  private  ritual, 
Which  days  of  quiet  pay  the  setting  sun. 
Thine  age  demands  a  season  of  repose, 
After  the  tedious  rites  of  sacrifice 
But  now  concluded. 

DCELIUS. 

The  eternal  Powers, 

By  whom  we  are  created,  fed,  and  bless'd, 
May  justly  claim  each  moment  they  bestow. 
The  longest  life  of  man  is  all  too  short 
To  utter  his  thanksgiving  for  that  word 
Which  called  him  out  of  nothing,  and  bestowed 
Capacity  to  taste  celestial  joys, 
That,  sometime,  in  this  tenement  of  flesh, 
Shadow  the  great  hereafter  of  our  hope. 
No,  Aulus !  while  this  frame  (unbent  by  time) 
Can  serve  before  the  altar,  be  assured 
That  each  awakening  morn  and  closing  eve 
Shall  find  me  prostrate  to  adore  the  Gods, — 
Whose  blessings  shower'd  upon  my  latter  years. 
Are  concentrate  in  one  rich  gift  —  My  Child. 

AULUS. 
Yes !    Well  may'st  thou  be  thankful  that  a  form 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  V 

Of  such  perfection,  is  but  dwelling  meet 

For  the  fair  spirit  that  inhabits  it ;  — 

While  to  our  sacred  caste,  from  which  the  state 

Takes  the  blest  influence  of  domestic  ties, 

The  presence  of  Lyteria  in  the  temple, 

Stands  forth  a  fair  embodiment  to  sense, 

Of  the  pure  love  and  pitying  charity, 

With  which  we  trust  the  pard'ning  Gods  behold 

The  weakness  of  their  servants. 

DO3LIUS. 

Her  clear  soul 

Has  been  my  chiefest  comfort,  since,  preferr'd 
From  the  rough  trade  of  arms3  I  chose  this  place 
To  wait  life's  solemn  issue  ;  —  And  I  think 
She  shall  be  call'd  to  show  what  virtue  gives 
The  fellowship  of  those,  whose  sober  office 
Best  may  instruct  the  mind  to  follow  Truth 
Undoubting.     She,  who  died  in  giving  me 
This  trust,  declared  by  that  strange  inspiration, 
Which  sometimes  speaks,  ere  the  last  thread  is 

broke, 

That  this  our  child  should  be  reserved  by  Jove 
For  some  great  service.    Thus,  her  soul  received 


10  LYTERIA : 

Sweet  consolation  for  the  prayer  denied — 
That  life's  last  pains  should  give  a  son  to  Rome. 
But,  Aulus,  now  no  praise  of  our  loved  child, 
For  I  must  hear  no  more  upon  a  theme 
That  never  yet  was  tedious. 

AULUS. 

Must  I  then 

Believe  thy  shrinking  movement  to  imply 
A  knowledge  —  a  suspicion  —  a  vague  fear  — 
That  we  thy  underlings  in  silence  share, 
Not  daring  to  becloud  the  father's  heart 
With  our  too  ready  fancies.     All  our  priests 
Are  fool'd,  to  think  thy  observation  dull 
To  that  sad  change  that  must  concern  thee  most. 
Yes!  —  thou  hast  mark'd  the  maiden's  downcast 

brow  — 

Her  thoughtful  visage,  shrinking  from  the  light 
That  flashes  strangely  from  her  speaking  eye:  — 
Thou  learn'st  with  us,  to  deem  the  hour  accurst, 
When,  at  the  Consul's  order,  we  received 
A  noble  student  in  this  sacred  fane.  — 
Perish  the  day  when  our  unwilling  gates 

* 

Admitted  Marcus  Curtius! 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  11 

DCELIUS. 

Nay  !  —  Enough ! 

At  seeming  evil  man  should  not  repine, 
Since  there  may  lurk  a  blessing  undeserved, 
'Neath  its  dark  mantle.     Yet,  if  'tis  decreed 
That  some  great  trial  mark  my  close  of  life, 
I  feel,  the  humble  minister  of  heaven 
Should  not  lack  strength  to  bear  its  chastise 
ment. 

Still  am  I  bless'd  ;  secure  that  no  reproach 
Can  ever  sully  the  pure  soul  of  her, 
Whose  nature,  all  unselfish,  scarcely  knows 
A  struggle  in  the  sacrifice  of  aught 
That  men  hold  dearest ;  and  whose  simple  heart, 
Warmed  by  divine  affection,  finds  its  peace 
In  the  prime  duty  of  religion  —  Prayer. 

AULUS. 

Well  may'st  thou  trust  the  nurture  of  the  Child 
Will  triumph  in  the  Woman.     We  but  fear'd 
No  change  could  bring  more  happiness  to  one, 
Whose  every  moment  seemed  a  quiet  joy. 
Yet  if  young  Curtius,  upon  whom  descend 
The  wealth,  hopes,  and  ambition  of  a  house, 


12  LYTERIA : 

The  noblest  in  our  city  —  should  he  be 
Allow'd  to  wed  Lyteria  — 

DOELIUS. 

Thou  speak'st 

The  single  doubt  that  weighs  upon  my  soul. 
'Tis  most  unlike,  the  Consul  Lucius, 
The  guardian  of  Marcus,  the  tried  friend 
And  kinsman  of  his  father,  should  forget 
The  claims  of  station,  family,  and  wealth, 
By  favoring  a  marriage,  so  removed 
From  all  the  circumstance  of  birth  and  dower, 
That  such  high  state  and  generous  service  ask. 
Yet,  if  some  unforeseen  or  strange  event 
Could  sanctify  this  union,  I  must  own 
There  is  no  man  more  worthy  the  pure  love 
A  maiden's  heart  can  offer,  than  this  Curtius. 
His  earliest  youth  was  given  to  pursuits 
That  have  enlarged  the  patriotic  zeal, 
And  soldier's  hardness  he  inherited. 
Yet  when  our  legions  with  late  conquest  flush'd. 
Return'd  to  riot  and  corrupt  discourse  — 
Our  valiant  Curtius,  upon  whom  the  state 
Lavislvd  her  proudest  honors,  putting  off 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  13 

The  batter'd  helmet  and  the  well-worn  sword, 
Came  to  this  temple,  in  such  modest  garb 
As  fits  the  humble  student  of  the  Truth, 

Reveal'd  to  earth  through  Heaven's  ministers. 

* 

AULUS. 

Should  he  deserve  thy  praise,  be  well  assured 
He  will  break  through  all  barriers  that  the  world 
May  place  between  Lyteria  and  his  love. 

DtELIUS. 

Yet  it  would  show  most  foully  in  ourselves 
To  countenance  a  marriage,  which  must  bring 
Disgrace  upon  this  temple,  if  unknown 
To  Lucius,  our  great  Patron.     Every  claim 
Of  honor  we  must  grant,  through  any  cost 
Of  private  sacrifice.     And  now,  't  is  right 
Our  daughter  should  be  warn'd  of  this  resolve, — 
And  Marcus  hinder'd  for  some  little  time 
From  entering  our  portals.     These  two  duties 
(The  first  most  harrowing  to  a  father's  heart) 
Must  be  accomplish'd  ere  the  risen  moon 
Shall  be  reflected  in  old  Tiber's  waves. 
Summon  Lyteria  to  me  :  —  The  first  task 


14  LYTERTA  : 

Should  be  the  hardest ;  I  will  speak  to  her  — 
And  after,  warn  the  guardian  of  the  youth, 
Whose  presence  has  so  broken  the  repose 
That  should  possess  this  temple. 

AULUS. 

Yet  observe 

How  hastily  the  Consul's  officer 
Presses  through  yonder  court :    'Tis  like  he  comes 
Charged  with  some  sudden  order  of  his  master. 
(Enter  Messenger.} 

MESSENGER. 

Lucius  sends  greeting  to  the  priests  of  Jove, 
And  craves  some  present  conference  with  their 

Chief. 

Before  the  hour  of  evening  sacrifice, 
He  will  seek  Doelius  in  this  place,  alone. 

D03LIUS. 

I  shall  await  his  visit. 

[Exit  Messenger. 
Now  behold, 
How  some  kind  fate  appears  to  aid  the  task 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  15 

Allotted  to  my  age.     The  worst  must  soon 
Be  over.     Even  now  soft  echoes,  waked 
By  a  light  footstep,  tell  the  near  approach 
Of  her,  whose  coming  brings  for  the  first  time 
No  thrill  of  happiness.     Leave  us  together, — 
But  when  the  final  beam  of  tired  Day, 
Gilding  the  antique  shield  suspended  near 
The  statue  of  the  Warrior  Deity, 
Shall  mark  the  hour  for  worship,  —  summon  me 
To  join  the  evening  service.     I  shall  need 
The  calming  rites  of  sacrifice  and  prayer. 

AULUS. 

I  shall  obey  these  orders  ;  well  assured 
That  out  of  every  trouble  peace  may  come, 
To  those  who  nobly  bear  life's  discipline. 

[Exit  Aulus. 

DCELIUS. 

'T  is  a  harsh  duty  !     How  can  I  dispel 
This  dear  delusion  that  has  thrill'd  a  soul 
With  the  deep  joy  of  passion  ! 
Vain  —  vain,  for  man  to  quench  the  heaven-lit 
flame, 


16  LYTERIA: 

In  whose  warm  glow  the  Gods  permit  our  hearts 
To  taste  celestial  pleasure!  Give  me  strength  — 
Strength  —  to  assail  the  life  where  most  I  live. 

(Enter  Lyteria.*) 

LYTERIA. 

Alone,  dear  father!     Of  the  eager  throng 
Of  priests  and  nobles,  that  so  lately  stood 
To  see  this  day's  great  service,  has  not  one 
Rernain'd, —  not  one,  to  bear  thee  company? 

DCELIUS. 

Nay,  thou  must  know,  Lyteria,  there  are  times 
When  the  exalted  soul  craves  solitude. 

LYTERIA. 

I  have  well  known  such  seasons;  —  when  the 

mind, 

Refined  and  loosen'd  from  the  earthly  tie, 
Which  binds  its  essence  to  material  form, 
Finds  human  sympathy  far,  far  below 
The  sphere  where  it  inhabits. 
Then,  we    must   seek  communion  with  bright 

things 
That  ever  float  about  us.     Unperceived, 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  17 

These  phantoms  are  to  this,  our  mortal  sight ; 
But   their   sweet   presence,   mocking   aid   from 

sense, 
Inspires  the  doubting  soul  with  trust  divine. 

DCELIUS. 

Happy  the  breast  whose  consciousness  is  fill'd 
With  such  fair  images!  May  thy  young  heart 
Cleave  only  to  such  fancies.     Let  thy  love 
Exhaust  itself  on  nature's  endless  form. 
Impose  no  hope  on  aught  within  the  pale 
Of  this  most  narrow  being;   so  shall  a  state, 
The  happiest  humanity  can  know, 
Be  given  for  thy  portion. 

LYTERIA. 

Thou  art  wrong, 

Father  ;  thou  canst  not  trust  the  words  thy  lips 
Have    used.     Our   life    sometimes    denies    our 

speech. 

All  the  delight  that  contemplation  gives, 
Each  joy  afforded  by  the  natural  world, 
Shows  a  dim  vision  of  one  perfect  bliss, 
That  is  our  heritage.     My  heart  has  leap'd 
To  see  the  untired  Phoebus  coming  forth 
2 


18  LYTERIA : 

To  work  his  daily  miracle  —  I  knew 

An  awful  pleasure,  when  the  crashing  bolt 

Told  men   the    wrath    of  Jove  —  the  glorious 

Arch, 

That  spann'd  the  clearing  sky  —  the  deep  repose 
Of  the  moon-silver'd  lake  —  the  thousand  notes 
That  swell  the  song  of  spring  —  all  these  have 

charm'd 

My  growing  spirit :  —  Yet  I  late  have  learn'd 
How  mortal  is  such  pleasure,  when  compared 
With  the  great  presence  of  that  ecstasy, 
Which  frees  our  being  from  the  cell  of  self, 
And  joineth  soul  to  soul. 

DO2LIUS. 

I  must  be  plain, 

Since  craft  of  speech  ill  suits  the  warning  voice, 
That  nature  utters  through  a  parent's  lips. 
There  is  no  bliss  that  man  should  not  resign, 
When  Heaven  demands  the  favor  it  has  lent. 
That  silence,  so  long  kept  between  us,  child, 
Finds  here  an  end.     This  daily  intercourse, 
With  one  whom  place  and  rank  hold  from  the 
choice, 


A   DRAMATIC  POEM.  19 

Where  young  affection  points,  must  cease  at 

once. 

When  at  the  hour  of  sunset,  our  huge  gates 
Swing  harshly  on  their  hinges,  they  must  close 
For  the  last  time  on  Curtius :  And  I  warn  thee, 
By  the  strong  interest  that  makes  thy  peace 
Far  dearer  than  mine  own,  dismiss  this  man 
Forever  from  thy  thought. 

LYTERIA. 

Father,  —  thou  know'st 
That  I  have  ever  loved  thee  ;  ever  watched 
To  do  thy  slightest  pleasure.     Now  a  power 
That  I  may  not  resist  forbids  obedience. 
All  my  existence  is  so  bound  with  his, 
Whose  love  paints  life  like  some  rare  festival, 
That  separation  would  but  cause  the  soul 
To  break  this  feeble  fetter  of  dull  earth, 
And  wander  forth  to  seek  his  company. 

DCELIUS. 

Thou  show'st,  my  daughter,  that  rebellious  will 
Which  cleaves  to  our  base  nature ;    strongest 

ever 
When  our  desire  must  never  be  attain'd. 


20  LYTERIA  : 

LYTERIA. 

Nay,  let  us  think  that  nature's  noblest  strength 
Is  only  waked  by  trial ;   that  Devotion, 
Unknown  save  to  its  object,  may  be  shown 
Before  the  world,  and  conquer  every  doubt 
That  shadows  what  we  are. 

DO3LIUS. 

My  words  have  been 

In  kindness  ;  that  thy  heart  (our  purpose  known) 
May  seem  to  offer  freely  the  release, 
That  else  must  be  compell'd. 

LYTERIA. 

No  human  power 

Can  separate  the  souls  that  fly  together 
By  sacred  impulse,  and  a  law  as  fixed 
As  that  which  holds  night's  burning  fires  in  air, 
And  brings  to  man  their  lustre.     Our  weak  bonds 
Fetter  in  vain  the  hands  of  Destiny. 
For  I  have  learn'd  that  pure  and  holy  love 
Is  unextinguish'd  by  the  chilling  touch 
Of  earth,  which  soon  must  cover  our  frail  forms. 
But,  if  the  soul  continues  to  exist 
In  a  more  glorious  being,  so  shall  those 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  21 

Affections  which  made  up  its  life,  increase 
To  nobler  fervor — Vows  that  here  unite 
Two  kindred  hearts  shall  be  preserved  forever. 

DCELIUS. 

Enough  :  —  my  cruel  duty  is  discharged. 
The  task  that  yet  remains  must  be  perform'd 
By  stronger  hands  than  mine. 

The  eastern  gates 

Admit  some  strangers — Yes  !  the  Consul  comes, 
Surrounded  by  his  household  officers  ; 
'T  is  as  I  fear'd —  He  brings  no  comfort  here! 

LYTKRIA. 

He  does  —  he  does — for  Curtius  follows  him! 
[Enter   Lucius   and    officers.      Lucius   salutes 
Dailius,  and  they  pass  through  the  Arch  at 
centre  in  conversation.     Curtius  comes  for 
ward  to  meet  Lyteria. 

CURTIUS. 

The  closing  day  reserves  its  richest  gift 
To  crown  the  final  hour.     This  evening  meeting, 
Long'd  for  through  all  the  feasts  and  sacred  rites 
To-day  has  witness'd,  now  appears  a  joy 


22  LYTERIA  : 

Deeper  than  dreams  can  bring  us.     Few  awake 
To  find  the  fair  imaginings  of  night, 
Endow'd  with  substance  at  the  touch  of  Day. 

LYTERIA. 

I  do  return  thy  greeting ;  and  confess 
My  heart  is  stirr'd  with  a  divine  emotion, 
As  these  fond  eyes  again  are  fill'd  with  thee. 
Yes!    There  may  be  all  human  bars   between 

us  — 
Wealth,  rank,  the  world,  the  will  and  chains  of 

power  — 

But  there  can  be  no  longer  that  Abyss, 
Whose    blackness,   ere    our   mutual    love   was 

known, 
Kept  us  divided. 

CURTIUS. 

We  need  have  no  fear, 
That  any  cloud  is  lowering  above. 
This  day  I  have  revealed  my  dearest  wish 
To  Lucius ;  who,  with  a  father's  power, 
Unites  a  father's  kindly  interest, 
In  all  I  have  at  heart.     We  shall  be  join'd 
With  his  approval,  and  thy  gentle  soul, 
Purer  than  mine,  shall  ever  bear  it  up, 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  23 

E'en  as  the  smoke  of  sacrifice  ascends 
Freighted  with  prayer  to  Jove. 

LYTERIA. 

So  may  it  prove ! 

And  yet  there  is  a  something  whispers  here, 
That  warns  me  of  a  dark  and  trying  time, 
That  lowers  in  the  future  —  No,  't  is  not 
The  mocking  trick  of  Fancy,  —  for  last  night, 
While  sleep  restored  the  body,  I  beheld, 
Robed  in  celestial  beauty,  a  bright  form 
That  smiled  upon  me  sadly,  and  breath'd  forth 
Words,  whose  clear  utterance  thrills  my  waking 

sense, 
As  I  recall  them  :  — 

"  Daughter,  do  not  shrink 
From  any  grief  the  Right  may  offer  thee :  — 
A  perfect  love  is  ready  to  resign 
Its  object,  when  that  object's  truest  fame 
Demands  a  sacrifice  so  terrible" 

CURTIUS. 

Why,  what  a  curse  were  our  existence  here, 
If  the  distorted  visions  of  the  night 
Reveal' d  our  future ! 


.24  LYTERIA  : 

LYTERIA. 

Yet  some  seasons  come 
To  every  life,  when  the  dark  veil  is  lifted; 
When  we  behold  things,  which  shall  be  here 
after,  — 

And  thus  receive  warning,  impression,  counsel, 
Not  brought  through  avenues  of  mortal  sense. 

CURTIUS. 

Think  only  of  the  present,  which  appears 
So  prodigal  in  blessing. 

LYTERIA. 

Know'st  thou  all! 

My  father  has  declared  against  our  union, 
And  asks  a  resignation  of  that  love, 
I  pray  each  hour  to  make  more  wholly  mine. 

CURTIUS. 

I  will  not  question  that  thy  soul  disdains 
Submission  to  such  order ! 

LYTERIA. 

For  thy  success, 
Or  thy  true  glory,  I  could  yield  all  claim. 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  25 

But  for  another  cause,  never  —  Oh,  never! 
(Enter  Lucius  and  Daelius.} 

LUCIUS. 

Nor  shalt  thou,  Maiden,  for  the  heavens  smile 
On  such  devotion,  and  no  act  of  mine 
Shall  thwart  their  higher  pleasure.     Rome  has 

heard 

Thy  judgment,  Marcus,  much  approved  of  late 
In  gravest  matters  —  and  we  trust  it  here. 
Receive  the  sanction  of  thy  father's  friend, 
Who  willingly  resigns  those  final  trusts, 
Placed  in  his  hands,  to  shackle  at  the  need 
Youth's  hot  intemperance.     Fortune  is  thine ; 
And  that  high  place  in  the  regard  of  men, 
More  to  be  coveted.     A  deathless  fame 
May  be  thy  future  portion,  if  found  true 
To  the  fair  promise  of  thy  early  days. — 
And  for  you,  lady,  see  you  bear  yourself 
Worthy  a  Roman  wife.     Let  no  weak  love 
Restrain  our  Marcus  from  those  stony  paths, 
That  men  must  tread  to  glory.     Make  thy  praise 
Ever  his  great  incentive  to  those  deeds, 
Which  best  become  his  place  and  family. 


26  LYTERIA  : 

CURTIUS. 

No  doubt  can  rest  on  her;  —  and  my  own  life 
Shall  speak  the  value  of  the  priceless  gift, 
I  here  do  swear  to  cherish. 

LUCIUS. 

Dcelius,  yield 

A  tardy  sanction  to  thy  daughter's  choice. 
Lyteria  fears  her  father's  chiding  voice, 
Alone  may  mar  this  hour  of  happiness. 

DCELIUS. 

Jove's  blessing  be  upon  thee,  dearest  child, 
And  keep  thee  to  his  service !     So  shall  He 
Enrich  the  parent  heart  which  now  is  call'd 
To  yield  its  nearest  trust.    When  late  we  parted, 
I  used  the  words  that  duty  seem'd  to  prompt. 
The  Consul  Lucius  (so  I  truly  thought) 
Would  ask  a  proud  alliance  for  the  youth, 
His  care  had  rear'd  to  service  of  such  honor. 
But  since  his  presence  dissipates  this  doubt, 
1  here  do  give  thee  freely  that  poor  leave, 
Which  only  sternest  duty  held  before. 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  27 

LYTERIA. 

Father,  no  new  relation  can  absolve 
Thy  child  from  filial  piety  and  love. 
It  still  shall  be  my  pleasure  to  support 
Thy  failing  steps,  and  gently  ease  the  slope 
Toward  nature's  end,  that  none  should  tread 

alone. — 

My  feeling,  Sir,  will  not  permit  my  lips 
To  thank  you  as  they  ought.     I  rather  stand 
Like  the  false  virgin  of  Rome's  early  day, 
Bow'd  with  the  weight  of  gifts,  the  Heavens  send 
In  answer  to  my  prayers. 

DffiLIUS. 

All  thou  should'st  say, 
I  have  endeavor'd  to  interpret  here. 
Our  guest  is  recompensed  in  joy  bestow'd  ; 
The  same  reward  that  blesses  the  kind  Gods 
For  all  their  favors.     Yet  I  marvel  much 
What  feeling  prompted  such  a  generous  deed, 
Not  tending  to  the  haughty  interest 
Of  your  patrician  rank. 

LUCIUS. 

To  answer  that, 


28  LYTERIA  : 

Recalls  a  memory,  the  stricken  heart 
Has  silently  endured.     Labor  and  Time, 
Our  griefs  great  comforters,  can  never  heal 
The  burning  wound  from  whence  —  when  early 

love 

Is  crush'd  by  Power,  and  trampled  to  the  dust  — 
Ebbs  daily  our  best  life.     I  have  done  service 
To  this  great  city  ;  and  the  world  has  hail'd 
My  progress,  as  I  walked  the  dangerous  path, 
Trodden  by  those  who  covet  its  applause  — 
Yet,  I  have  borne  about  me  a  great  void, 
That  no  distinction,  no  success  can  fill. — 
But  this  dark  grief  has  taught  me  to  respect 
Another's  joy ;  and  never  to  incur 
The  wrath  of  heaven,  by  sundering  young  hearts, 
Whom  power  divine  impels  to  seek  each  other. 

DCELTUS. 

Our  best  instructions  oft  are  found  in  strokes, 
That  torture  as  they  teach.     By  such  dark  ways 
The  light  of  knowledge  surely  is  reveal'd 
To  the  truth-craving  soul.  Thou  see'st  yon  shield 
Already  gilt  with  the  last  beam  of  day,  — 
Even  so  the  night  that  comes  upon  our  hopes, 
Shall  make  our  lives  display  some  kindly  deed, 


A    DRAMATIC   POEM.  29 

That  the  high  noon  of  bliss  had  never  brought. 

LYTERIA. 

If  through  our  woes  some  thankfulness  should 

shine, 

Must  we  not,  wrapt  in  blessing,  recognize 
The  favors  Heaven  hath  lately  dealt  to  us  ? 

DCELIUS. 

We  are  reminded  well :   The  wonted  time 
Of  evening  adoration  is  at  hand  — 
Our  priests  approach  to  service  :  May  our  hearts 
Replete  with  gratitude,  breathe  earnest  prayer. 

[Doors  at  the  back  are  thrown  open.     An  altar 
is  discovered.    Aulus  and  other  priests  enter.] 

The  Act  closes. 


\ 


LYTERIA  : 


ACT   II. 

A  public  square  before  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  — 
Enter  Aulus  from  the  temple,  meeting  Protlms. 

AULUS. 

Welcome,  good  Prothus  !     Blessed  be  the  god, 
Who  to  this  needy  fane  returns  thy  steps. 

PROTHUS. 

A  power  divine  indeed  has  led  me  back;  — 
For  by  those  natural  warnings,  which  the  skilPd 
May  read  to  their  great  profit,  I  perceived 
A  sudden  call  for  my  poor  ministration, 
Before  these  altars  hallow'd  by  the  past. 
Moved  by  such  mystic  impulse  to  resign 
The  quiet  country,  —  where  my  wish  had  been 
To  waste  some  days  inactive,  —  I  have  come 
Eager  to  take  the  duty  fate  assigns. 
And  now,  I  pray  thee,  Aulus,  quickly  say, 
What  great  event  has  hither  beckon'd  me? 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  31 

i 

This  spacious  place,  traffic's  accustom'd  mart, 
Is  clothed  in  silence.     At  the  outer  gate 
The  watchmen  glared  upon  me  as  I  pass'd, 
And  bid  me  turn  from  the  devoted  city. 
No  busy  hum  in  the  frequented  street, 
Stifled  the  frighten'd  echo.     Haggard  men, — 
Tutor'd  to  bear  in  Penury's  hard  school, — 
Whose  only  roof  has  been  the  heavy  clouds, 
That  yet  are  fixed  above  us,  scream'd  that  Jove 
Waken'd  to  wrath,  would  crush  the  guilty  earth, 
And  hurl  it  back  to  chaos.     Speak  at  once, 
What  panic  frenzies  Rome  ?     What  cause  in 
spires 
Language  so  fraught  with  terror? 

AULUS. 

Alas!  The  secret  cause  of  wrath  divine 
Is  only  uttered  by  inspired  lips, 
Through  which  the  god  breathes  darkly  his  be 
hest. 

Already  messengers  despatched  at  dawn, 
Haste  to  the  favor'd  oracle,  where  Jove 
Reveals  his  awful  will :  at  their  return 
A  solemn  sacrifice  must  be  perform'd 
In  our  own  temple  ;  when  our  priests  shall  learn 


82  LYTERIA : 

What  expiation  Heaven  will  accept, 
To  free  the  city  from  this  chastisement. 

PROTIIUS. 

May  some  atonement,  to  avert  the  doom 
I  gather  from  thy  words,  be  granted  us ! 
Now,    speak   the    grief  that  weighs    thy    spirit 

down :  — 

The  power  of  Evil  which  assails  man's  life 
Hath  put  on  some  strange  aspect ;  yet  the  grief 
Of  each  hot  shaft,  wing'd  through  the  constant 

strife, 
Is  something  sooth'd  by  friendly  sympathy. 

AULUS. 

The  greatest  sorrow  needs  the  smallest  speech 
Jn  its  rehearsal.     Briefly  then  —  Last  night, 
While  certain  of  our  priests  linger'd  to  hear 
Of  the  approaching  marriage,  which  our  chief 
Shall  shortly  consecrate  between  young  Marcus, 
And  the  dear  maid,  whose  presence  melts  the 

chill 

Which  often  rests  upon  devotion's  shrine, — 
While,  as  I  say,  we  stood  in  eager  talk, 
The  silver  beam  that  Cynthia's  crescent  shot 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  33 

Upon  the  pavement,  changed  to  lurid  red;  — 
Yon  massive  walls  were,  heaved  this  way  and 

that, 

Until  the  rocking  floor  threw  on  their  knees 
All  waiting  in  the  temple;  —  as  to  show 
That  on  the   prayers   her   priests   should  offer 

Heaven, 
Hung  Rome's  sole  hope  of  pardon.    Then,  there 

came 

A  prodigy  more  dreadful.     The  bright  shield 
Our  fathers  fixed,  a  votive  gift  before 
His  imaged  form,  who  gave  their  wars  success, — 
Leap'd  from  its  place,  and  striking  at  our  feet 
Shiver'd  in  ringing  fragments ! 

PROTHUS. 

A  sure  sign, 

As  our  best  Augurs  ever  have  declared, 
To  warn  the  city  of  impending  ill. 
After  this  prodigy,  did  stillness  reign  ? 

AULUS. 

A  calm  succeeded;  —  yet  the  clouds,  whose  pall 
Still  presses  on  us,  hid  the  lighted  Arch. 
3 


34  LYTERIA  : 

The    heavy   breeze,   muflled    with    sulphurous 

smoke, 

Brought  distant  voices;  —  Terror's  piercing  cry 
More  and  more  keenly  rent  the  startled  air, — 
Till  soon  a  noisy  crowd,  beating  our  gates, 
Called  Doelius  forth  to  quiet  their  dismay, 
With  words  of  manly  calmness.  Then  we  learnt 
How  great  convulsion  tore  the  heart  of  Rome, 
And  with  its  awful  signet,  stamp'd  our  world. 
The  unknown  force  that  rocked  our  trembling 

walls, 

Had  spent  its  fury  near  the  Capitol:  — 
With  startling  might,  it  rent  Earth's  flinty  breast, 
And  ere  the  frighten'd  watchers  could  express 
Their  wonder  by  an  utter'd  syllable, 
There  yawn'd,  e'en  at  their  feet,  a  gulf  profound ; 
While  falling  arch  and  palace  shook  the  earth 
With  massive  fragments.     Yet  I  have  declared 
The  smallest  part  of  Rome's  calamity. 
For,  from  the  dark  abyss,  whose  gaping  mouth 
No  human  power  may  fill,  a  vapor  thick 
With  deadly  pestilence,  blights  those  poor  homes, 
Which  Ruin,  satiate  with  man's  proud  works, 
Left  unmolested.     To  abate  this  plague 
We  wait  in  fear  the  Oracle's  response  ; 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  35 

Firmly  resolved  to  gain  the  heavenly  grace, 
By  any  means  that  grace  may  furnish  us. 

PROTHUS. 

Now,  I  perceive,  men  have  good  cause  to  leave 
Their  daily  business,  and  besiege  each  shrine 
With  penitential  offering.     May  the  Gods 
Who  so  afflict  us,  moved  by  earnest  prayer, 
Declare  what  expiation  Rome  may  give, 
To  win  asrain  their  smile  !     Yet  'mid  this  srief 

o  o 

Did  I  not  hear  one  blessing  all  may  share  ? 
This  marriage  —  Have  I  understood  thy  words? 
Shall  the  fair  dawn  of  promise  flush  the  cheek 
Of  our  loved  inmate? 

AULUS. 

,  'T  is  a  joy  that  glows 

Through  darkness  such  as  this.     No  cruel  fate 
Limits  young  passion,  that  may  now  invest 
Its  dreams  and  hopes  with  substance.  Yet  we  see 
Those  patient  services  remember'd  still, 
To  which  Devotion  gave  Lyteria's  youth. 
For  in  the  midst  of  Pestilence  she  stands, 
With  woman's  tenderness  to  ease  the  couch, 
Where  dying  lips  first  murmur  with  a  prayer. 


36  LYTERIA  : 

To  the  departing  soul,  her  presence  seems 
Fit  comrade  for  earth's  past  inhabitants, 
Who,  purged  from  mortal  weakness,  shall  receive 
The  spirit  newly  ransom'd  from  its  bonds, — 
And  bear  it  up  enlighten'd. 

PROTHUS. 

But  alone 

She  cannot  watch  in  the  dark  house  of  death. 
Surely,  young  Curtius  waits  with  zealous  care 
To  shield,  with  love's  protection,  the  frail  form 
Encompass'd  by  such  peril? 

AULUS. 

'Twas  his  prayer, 

Earnest  and  oft  repeated,  to  decline 
The  offered  mission  to  the  Oracle, 
And  to  attend  with  her  the  sad  abodes, 
Where  'custom'd  duty  beckon'd.     But  the  maid 
Claim' d  his  permission  to  discharge  alone 
Her  wonted  charity; — bidding  him  speed 
With  other  nobles,  to  the  shrine  where  Jove 
Speaks  through  his  chosen  agent.     "'Tis  the 

Right 
That  now  divides  us,"  ('twas  her  parting  word) 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  61 

"  You  go  in  pomp,  the  state's  ambassador, 
I,  as  the  humble  alrnoner  through  whom 
Some  higher  spirit  may  impart  its  grace;  — 
Our  duties,  different  in  the  eye  of  man, 
Shall  be  of  equal  merit,  if  perform'd 
With  constancy,  high  purpose,  and  such  strength, 
As  Heaven  may  send  to  aid  our  feebleness." 
(Enter  Dazlius  from  the  Temple.} 

DO3LIUS. 

Why  stand  ye  here  in  idle  conference  ? 

Is  it  not  known  the  messengers  approach, 

Bearing  the  sentence  of  the  Oracle  ? 

The  Consul  and  our  gravest  citizens, 

Are  waiting  to  commence  those  solemn  rites, 

Which  shall  precede  the  reading  of  the  words, 

On  which  our  lives  must  hang.     Haste  to  your 

place. 

Prepare  the  sacred  vessels ;  deck  the  shrines  ; 
Lead  forth  the  victims,  and  make  all  things  fit ; 
While  I,  as  is  our  custom,  waiting  here, 
Receive  the  bearers  of  the  great  response, 
And  lead  them  to  our  Temple;  haste,  for  time 
Bears  heavily  upon  us. 

[  Exeunt  Aulus  and  Prothus. 


88  LYTER1A  : 

DCELIUS. 

How  few  hours, 

Since  all  about  this  place  were  wrapp'd  in  peace; 
And  I,  replete  with  calmness,  as  serene 
As  the  smooth  surface  of  the  smiling  sea, 
Before  some  wrecking  tempest !     Trouble  came 
With  great  convulsion  ;  and  some  mightier  throe 
I  doubt,  must  end  it.     May  the  bolt  strike  here ! 
Here  —  in  this  breast,  before  it  touches  hearts, 
Whom  the  strong  cords  of  love  and  earnest  hope. 
Bind  firmly  to  the  earth. 

The  measured  step, 
And  plaintive  chant,  that  fills  the  neighboring 

street, 
Announce  our  mission  ended. 

(Enter  Curtius  and  the  Messengers.} 

Welcome,  friends ! 
The  hurried  breath,  flushed  cheek,  and  travell'd 

mien, 
Witness  your  zeal  towards  Rome.     Breathe  for 

an  instant;  — 

Then  ye  shall  tell  the  eager  throng  within, 
What  message  is  vouchsafed  to  comfort  us. 

CURTIUS. 
Has  she  return'd  ? 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  39 

DCELIUS. 

Not  yet;  —  but  I  have  sent 
To  bid  her  leave  that  pious  exercise, 
Now  fraught  with  so  much  danger. 

CURTIUS. 

Danger!  yes, — 

Full  well  I  know  the  peril ;  and  would  bid 
Thy  child  brave  all — all,  but  the  wasting  sense 
Of  duty's  call  unanswer'd  —  to  escape 
Such  fearful  service ;  but  in  case  like  this, 
Her  impulse,  more  exalted  than  my  will, 
Demands  submission. 

DCELIUS. 

From  her  earliest  youth, 
Such  painful  charities  Lyteria  chose 
To  earn  the  right  to  live.     'Twas  thus  she 

drown'd 

The  constant  question  that  our  being  asks, — 
"  What  purpose  is  accomplish'd  in  thy  life?" 

CURTIUS. 

Oh,  could  I  share  this  labor,  I  would  ask 
For  her  no  respite:  —  But  she  only  sees 
The  dart  that  Peril  wincrs  to  other  breasts. 

O 


40  LYTERIA  : 

With  an  authority,  and  pleading  love, 

That  man  may  not  resist,  still  she  commands 

My  absence  from  her  danger. 

DO3LIUS. 

Thou  art  tried 

In  this  obedience,  though  'tis  well  enforced. 
For  by  some  hidden  grace  which  Nature  gives, 
(Showing  what  duties  she  should  undertake) 
A  fragile  woman  oft  may  stand  unharm'd, 
Where  at  each  breath,  air-tainting  pestilence 
Strikes  giants  to  the  earth.     The  Gods  assign 
To  each,  the  part  best  fitted  to  the  strength 
Bestow'd  by  Nature :  to  the  lusty  arm, 
Nerved  by  such  mountain  air  and  simple  food, 
As  sicken  pamper'd  Ease,  the  work  is  given 
To  win  the  riches  that  the  frugal  earth 
Hides  in  her  bosom.     From  the  cultured  mind, 
Rich  in  experience,  mankind  should  draw 
Lessons  of  wisdom  ;  while  those  gentle  souls, 
In  whom  affection  blossoms,  still  dispense 
Their  fragrance  to  a  world  that  little  recks 

o 

From  whence  the  sweetness  flows.     But  hardest 

tasks 
Are  kept  for  such  true  heroes,  as  outstrip 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  41 

Their  halting  generation; — whose  great  lives 
Old  Time  shall  gently  nestle  to  his  breast, 
And  so  bear  on  forever. 

CURTIUS. 

My  spirit  burns  to  hear  devoted  deeds 
That  human  will  has  compass'd ;  and  I  pray 
That  some  great  service  may  demand  my  aid: 
So  that  my  name,  absolved  from  fate's  decree, 
Shall  be  untouched  by  the  sad  law  of  Earth, 
Which  blots  from  memory  the  life  of  man, 
Before  the  grave's  decay  and  wasting  worm 
Consume  his  mortal  dwelling. 

DOZLIUS. 

Wish  for  nothing — 

Man  cannot  tell  where  his  advantage  lies. 
Our  humblest  duties  oft  are  surer  steps 
To  self-content  and  honor,  than  proud  heights 
Where  some  rare  chance  may  place  us.     I  have 

seen 

The  tortoise,  toiling  'neath  his  cumbrous  roof, 
Snatched  from  his  fellows  by  some  hungry  bird. 
Aloft  he  soars ;  till  Phoebus'  panting  steeds 
Draw  their  bright  burden  upward  from  the  west, 


42  LYTERIA : 

To  gild  his  spotted  armor;  —  now  the  earth 
Distant,  shows  meanly ;  and  the  pure,  dry  air 
Plays  pleasantly  about  him,  as  the  fowl 
Halts  in  her  quick  ascent ;  —  short  is  the  triumph  : 
For  rushing  winds,  that  every  moment  cut 
More  keenly,  tell  the  frightful  speed  that  hurls 
The  creeping  beast  to  ruin.     Now  the  rock 
Leaps  to  receive  him;  while  his  feather'd  foe, 
Whose  lusty  wings  gave  this  bright  eminence, 
With  eager  shriek  invites  some  distant  mate 
To  share  the  quivering  feast.    By  this  be  warn'd: 
For  every  height  on  Fortune's  dangerous  steep, 
Which  men  attain  by  outward  circumstance, — 
Lacking  the  native  grace  for  such  renown, — 
Serves  but  to  lengthen  out  their  cruel  fate, 
When  some  stern  trial,  greater  than  their  strength, 
Shall  dash  them  to  the  earth. 

CURTIUS. 

Thy  prudent  years 

Have  never  yet  lacked  specious  argument, 
To  thwart  the  craving  for  brave  deeds,  that  burns 
In  younger  hearts,  whose  native  ardor  feels 
That  Heaven  asks  action, —  stern,  heroic  strife, 
As  usance  due  on  this  great  debt  of  being. 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  43 

DCELIUS. 

Yet  constant  effort  bravely  to  discharge 
Some  humble  labor,  brings  a  peace  more  calm, 
Than  the  brief  plaudits  of  a  gaping  world. 
Freedom  to  choose,  with  will  sick  and  infirm  — 
This  is  the  drug,  whose  presence  poisons  oft 
The  brimming  cup  that  Fortune  offers  him, 
Men  call  her  favorite.     See  thy  peril  there. 
Chance  and  young  courage  have  advanced  thy 

state 

Beyond  the  'custom'd  mark.     A  higher  place 
May  yet  await  thee ;  which  to  fill,  requires 
Promptness  in  judging  where  thy  duty  points, 
With  self-control  to  sink  all  selfish  ends 
To  aid  the  general  profit. 

Now,  enough 

Upon  this  theme ;  for  it  is  time  to  read 
The  Oracle's  response.     Enter  the  temple, 
Brothers,  and  fulfil  your  sacred  mission. 

[Exeunt  Daelius  and  Messengers. 

CURTIUS. 

Why  stand  I  here  debating  with  my  thought, 
What  noble  deed  demands  my  energy  ? 
Why  envy  those  apprenticed  to  some  craft, 


44  LYTERIA  : 

Which  satisfies  the  soul's  demand  for  toil? 
Wisdom  but  heralds  sorrow ;  —  since  we  know 
The  lofty  ends  our  being  should  attain, 
Though  chain'd  by  feeling,  habit,  or  by  sloth, 
To  self's  cramp'd  dungeon ;  and  condemn'd  to 

peer 
Through  the  strong  grating  which  our  passions 

forge, 

To  keep  us  prisoners  from  the  cheerful  world 
Our  fancy  pictures !     Oh,  for  some    task  pre- 

scrib'd ! 
Would  that  some  path,  clearly  defined,  though 

steep, 

And  hedged  with  brambles,  open'd  to  my  steps ! 
Then,  might  I  win  the  brightest  prize  of  earth, 
The  sense  of  holding  claim  to  that  deep  love, 
Pour'd  from  a  woman's  heart. 

(Enter  Lyteria.) 

The  Gods  be  praised, 

Who  graciously  restore  their  borrow'd  gem ! 
My  joy  to  greet  thee  from  the  halls  of  death, 
Would  glow  in  sorrow's  drops;  but  that  to  see 
Weakness  made  strength  for  deeds  of  charity, 
Must  make  our  manhood  firmer.     Yet  declare 
Thy  safety. 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  45 

LYTERIA. 

Every  power  is  concentrate 
In  that  one  sense,  that  bears  thy  thrilling  accents 
To  my  soul:  The  air,  thus  freighted,  gives  a  life 
More  dear,  than  winds,  fresh  from  the  open  sea, 
Bring  the  close  street  crowded  by  misery. 
Yet  tell  me,  Curtius,  is  it  fit  to  leave, 
Even  for  time  most  brief,  my  chosen  place  ? 
For  looking  on  such  woe,  who  must  not  doubt 
The  right  to  hold  a  moment's  sympathy 
From  the  great  sum  of  human  wretchedness. 

CURTIUS. 

Thy  debts  are  overpaid  ;  —  Return  no  more, 
Lest  the  red  hand  of  Plague,  provoked  too  long, 
Clutch  where  I  fear  to  think. 

LYTERIA. 

Could'st  thou  be  moved 
By  any  selfish  dread  to  leave  the  post 
Ordain'd  by  Heaven  ?     No  !  —  I  know  thee  bet 
ter;— 

And  will  not  think  thou  askest  less  devotion 
From  the  firm  heart,  affection  seals  to  thine. 
Such  aid  as  I  can  give,  must  be  dispensed, 


46  LYTERIA  : 

Till  man  shall  learn  how  to  assuage  the  wrath, 
Writ  with  such  ghastly  sign  upon  the  earth. 
Sights  have  been  seen,  to  move  celestial  minds, 
If  their  calm  state  is  svvay'd  by  human  grief. 
The  dull,  cold  eye,  death's  instant  harbinger, 
Seems    fixed    upon    me    yet.      The    throes    of 

Strength, 

Snatch'd  rudely  to  the  grasp  of  Pestilence  — 
The  wife  —  the  mother  —  stricken  at  the  time, 
When  woman's  care  is  man's  sole  comforter, — 
The  helpless  babe,  drawing  from  nature's  font 
Not  nature's  milk,  but  venom  —  these  dread  sights 
Weigh'd  on  my  soul,  yet  did  not  crush  its  life. 
But  as  I  gazed  upon  one  last  farewell,  — 
Where  youth,  with  cheek  still  crimson  from  the 

flush 

Of  answer'd  passion,  fill'd  with  noble  zeal 
To  win  earth's  prizes  —  bent  a  glazing  eye, 
For  the  last  time,  on  one  for  whose  dear  sake 
He  would  be  tied  forever  to  the  form, 
Her  love  had  render'd  precious  —  then  it  was 
A  sudden  horror  seized  me  ;  while  I  shrank 
From  some  dim   shadow  that  seem'd  floating 

D 

past, 
Whose  stubborn  finger  pointed  to  this  scene. 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  47 

As  something  it  would  have  me  look  upon. 
This  awful  presence  chill'd  my  life's  warm  tide  ; 
Yet  now — how  soon  such  mocking  phantoms 

fade  — 
Being  again  with  thee. 

CURTIUS. 

Thou  mayest  well 

Despise  such  visions;  for  no  future  grief 
Can  haunt  us  while  united. 

LYTERIA. 

As  the  rough  furrows  that  the  tempest  writes 
On  some  bleak  battlement,  make  shelter'd  nooks, 
Wherein   the   vine's   green  shoots   may    safely 

cling, 

So  shall  my  soul  be  brought  still  closer  thine, 
When  Time's  rude  storms,  that  wear  this  outer 

frame, 
Open  a  nearer  passage  to  thy  heart. 

CURTIUS. 

So  fair  a  plant  demands  the  noblest  life, 
In  him  bless'd  by  its  fragrance. 


48  LYTERIA  : 

LYTERIA. 

And  unless 

All  'custom'd  tokens  which  to  Rome  foretell 
Her  coming  heroes,  mock  us  more  than  such 
Great  portents  have  ere  this  deceived  the  skilled, 
Thou  shalt  stand  forth  chief  in  this  generation. 
Nay,  tell  me  not  that  I  interpret  wrong 
The  people's  voice,  for,  bruised  'neath   such  a 

blow, 

Some  instinct  shows  a  savior  to  the  crowd. 
Just  now  a  thousand  voices  call'd  thy  name, 
When  rumor'd  wars  startled  the  quiet  street, 
And  Rome  would  choose  her  captain.     While  I 

pass'd, 

Our  gravest  senators  stopp'd  to  salute 
The  chosen  bride  of  Curtius,  whom  they  named 
The  city's  champion.     An  aged  priest 
Whose  spotless  soul  (so  have  the  mass  believed) 
Reflects  the  coming  time,  bid  me  deserve 
The  choice  of  him,  elected  by  the  Gods 
To  save  us  all  from  ruin.     Have  I  not 
Reason  to  hold  thy  future  fame  most  certain  ? 

CURTIUS. 
So  thou  shalt  point  the  way  where  honor  lies, 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  49 

None  but  a  craven  would  refuse  to  tread 

The  roughest  path,  at  whose  extreme  may  glow 

The  guerdon  of  thy  smile. 

The  op'ning  gates 

Announce  the  city's  comfort.  See  what  joy 
Beams  in  the  general  visage.  The  response 
Has  been  most  happy. 

(Enter  Dcclius  and  Lucius  from  the  Temple,  fol 
lowed  by  Priests  and  citizens.} 

D03LIUS. 

Jove  be  praised,  my  child, 

Who  brings  thee  out  of  peril !     The  stern  need 
Of  thy  poor  service  presently  shall  cease, 
Through  his  great  mercy;  for  the  priests  declare 
An  expiation,  which  shall  free  our  lives 
From  threatening  danger. 

LYTERIA. 

Words  are  weak  to  thank 
The  powers  that  stretch  their  mercy  to  fulfil 
What  few  had  dared  to  hope.     This  lifted  stroke. 
Must  make  our  life's  worst  state  an  instant  wear 
A  lustre  to  its  holder;  while  my  sky    . 
Loses  its  only  shadow.     Say,  what  act 
4 


50  LYTERIA  : 

Of  expiation  brings  the  world  this  peace  ? 

DCELIUS. 

Thus  from  his  holy  shrine  proclaim'd  the  God. 
"  The  yawning'  Earth  will  not  be  satisfied, 
Till  she  receive  ivhat  is  most  prized  of  Rome, 
Into  her  hungry  chasm"     These  few  words 
Contain'd  our  Oracle.     Yet,  when  with  prayer, 
And  grateful  sacrifice,  our  messengers 
Begg'd  further  knowledge,  thusitwasvouchsafd. 
"  The  treasure  that  Rome  looks  to,  in  her  need, 
Shinethfar  brighter  to  the  public  gaze, 
Than  to  his  eye  who  holds  it." 

LUCIUS. 

Soon  shall  Rome 

Be  ransom'd  from  her  present  suffering: 
For  Varrus  nobly  offers  his  rare  gems, 
Bright  tokens  of  ancestral  dignity, 
As  the  prized  tribute  Heaven  asks  from  man. 

DO3LIUS. 

Should  it  not  be  our  silver  statue,  clad 
By  cunning  art  with  Jove's  own  majesty, 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  51 

Which  is  demanded?     This  is  valued  more 
By  those  who   serve  within  these  courts,  than 

pearls, 

Or  all  the  brilliants  ever  brought  to  deck 
The  feeble  hand  of  Wealth. 

LUCIUS. 

Both  shall  be  given, 

Lest  either  prove  too  small;  and  some  rich  treas 
ure, 

Drawn  from  the  public  coffers,  shall  increase 
The  offering  demanded  at  our  hands. 
So  shall  we  merit  Jove's  returning  smile 
By  large  obedience. 

And  now  so  soon 

Must  this  affliction  cease,  we  turn  to  business, 
Which  the  strange  peril  forced  us  to  neglect :  — 
Marcus,  since  War  may  call  thee  to  the  field, 
'Tis  well  to  leave  a  faithful  wife  at  Rome, 
Whose  constant  prayers  may  nerve  her  hero's  arm 
To  deeds  of  valor. 

Come  to-morrow,  friends, 
To  this  great  temple,  as  the  witnesses 
Of  rites  more  joyful  than  this  day  has  seen; 


52  LYTERIA : 

For  two  young  hearts,  here  join'd  by  holiest  ties, 
Shall  bless  each  other.     Doelius,  prepare 
All  needful  things  for  this  solemnity. 

DCELIUS. 
The  orders  of  the  Consul  are  received. 

CURTIUS. 

Sir,  for  these  last  dear  words  I  can  but  feel, 
Not  utter,  gratitude. 

LUCIUS. 

See,  Publius  comes 

To  interrupt  such  task; — or  it  may  chance 
The  news  he  bears  gives  thee  a  greater  still. 
(Enter  Publius.) 

PUBLIUS. 

The  grateful  tidings  I  am  call'd  to  bring, 
Deserve  a  worthier  herald.     It  is  thought 
By  Rome's  most  prudent  nobles,  that  our  foes, 
Who  burn  beneath  their  late  discomfiture, 
Hearing  what  panic  terrifies  the  mass, 
Will  rush  upon  our  borders.     Now,  our  legions, 
Fill'd  with  such  desperate  fury  as  invests 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  53 

Uncultured  minds  in  great  calamity, 
Call  upon  Curtius  to  command  their  force, 
And  lead  them  on  to  battle ;  while  grave  men 
Trust  his  known  valor,  thrice  approved  in  war, 
And  that  paternal  virtue,  which  descends 
Upon  the  heir  of  true  Nobility. 
Marcus.  I  come  thy  suppliant.     A  place 
Beyond  thy  years,  though  not  thy  just  deserts, 
Sues  for  acceptance.     Nay,  receive  the  trust, 
Nor  question  of  thy  fitness ;  for  thy  skill, 
Quick  honor,  martial  bearing  and  renown, 
Shine  brightly  in  all  eyes,  except  thine  own. 

LYTERIA  (aside). 
Is  this  an  Echo ! 

CURTIUS. 

The  great  office,  sir, 
Which  our  too  partial  citizens  assign 
To  one  so  little  tried,  demands  some  fear 
In  its  acceptance.     I  can  only  think 
How  Jove  selects  the  insubstantial  cloud, 
From  which  to  deal  his  lightning. 


54  LYTEHIA  : 

PUBLIUS. 

The  hope  waked 

By  thy  appointment,  will  make  strong  the  arm 
Of  manhood,  and  reflush  the  maiden's  cheek, 
That  pales  at  soldier's  parting.     Yet  attend, 
For  by  still  greater  proof,  I  have  to  show 
The  confidence  thy  courage  gives  our  city. 
Know,  I  am  charged  to  tender  to  thy  use 
The  antique  steel,  worn  by  our  greatest  chiefs. 
In  Mars'  own  temple  has  this  armor  hung 
A  score  of  years  unbatter'd  by  the  foe. 
Only  Rome's  truest  sons  must  gird  their  limbs 
For  battle,  in  such  steel;  but  thou,  most  prized 
Of  Rome,  may'st  wear  this  honor' d  mail  unchal- 
leng'd. 

LYTERIA  (aside). 
A  son  most  prized  of  Rome  ! — "Why  should  these 

words 

In  characters  of  fire  seem  writ  before  me  ?  — 
Hence,  horrible  surmise! — for  I  have  still 
The  strength  to  cast  thee  from  my  shrinking  soul. 
Down,  ghastly  thought,  fiend-prompted  to  my 

breast! 
Leave  me  !  —  It  is  my  order ! 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  55 

LUCIUS. 

We  receive 

In  Marcus'  name  this  token  ;  since  the  doubt 
Of  his  own  claims  to  this  great  dignity 
Must  keep  him  silent. 

CURTIUS. 

Common  phrase  of  thanks 

Would  mock  so  rich  a  gift.     Say  to  these  friends, 
That,  as  I  value  favor  in  her  sight 
Whom  I  shall  wed  to-morrow,  I  devote 
My  life  to  serve  the  city,  and  deserve 
The  confidence  her  children  place  in  me. 

LUCIUS. 

Most  happily  these  fortunes  fall  to  us. 
Marcus  shall  take  this  armor  of  the  priest, 
Before  he  clasp  his  bride ;  showing  the  world 
His  honor  is  more  precious  than  his  love. 

DCELIUS. 

All  thy  advancement,  Curtius,  must  reflect 
Some  lustre  on  those  friends  whose  early  care 
Gave  thy  hot  youth  direction.     Let  their  words 


56  LYTERIA : 

Still  mingle  with  the  witching  notes  of  fame, 
That  trumpet  forth  thy  merit. 

CURTIUS. 

With  this  pledge. 

Given  to  recall  thy  teachings,  they  remain 
When  Time  shall  wipe  all  title  coveted, 
And  ancient  lore  from  Memory's  full  page. 
One  word  from  thee,  Lyteria;  —  that  my  heart, 
Satiate  with  joy,  may  stifle  its  own  bliss, 
And  so  make  room  for  future  happiness. 
Tell  me  that  these  great  favors  Rome  bestows, 
Have  brought  thee  pleasure. 

LYTERIA   (aside). 

Oh!  assist  me,  Gods  ! 

Lest  my  calm  words,  striving  with  dreadful  doubt, 
Choke  in  their  utterance. 

Marcus,  all  that  brings 
Thee  honor,  shall  awake  my  gratitude  — 
Yet  in  this  presence,  feeling  must  be  awed, 
And  find  few  words  to  dress  her  thankfulness. 

Let  me  go  in  —  for  a  dark  faintness  steals 
Over  my  spirit.     Do  not  fear  —  It  passes  — 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  57 

And  seems  to  draw  all  weakness  from  the  mind, 
High  purpose  should  inhabit.  —  Ha!  the  cloud 
Returns;  —  but  now  shadows  me  tenderly. 
A  moment  in  the  cooler  court  within 
Will  bring  relief.     Nay,  follow  not  —  "Pis  best 
I  am  alone. 

The  Act  closes. 


58  LYTERIA  : 


ACT  III. 

The  Temple  of  Jupiter  —  Lyteria  discovered. 

LYTERIA. 

The  noblest  th  ing  in  Rome  !    "Why  are  these  words 
Branded  upon  rny  spirit?     Hath  not  Rome 
A  medicine  to  heal  the  earth's  scarr'd  breast, 
Which  asks  the  labor'd  ore  or  burnish'd  gem 
Drawn  from  itself,  and  worshipp'd  with  a  zeal 
Due  to  the  Gods  alone!  — 

The  voice  divine 

Demands  a  gift,  prized  in  the  public  eye, 
More  than  in  his  to  whom  it  doth  belong. 
Jove's  sacred  semblance  stands  therein  confess'd ; 
Holy  to  our  poor  vision;  but  to  His, 
To  whom  't  is  dedicate,  the  grossest  atom 
Of  our  dark  earth  shows  with  an  equal  lustre. 
For  man's  proud  work,  more  meanly  mocks  His 


Than  the  poor  taper,  Phoebus'  quick'ning  beams. 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  59 

Bending  in  shame  at  this  familiar  altar, 

Let  me  implore  forgiveness  for  a  doubt 

Of  Heaven's  forbearance.     Hence!  thou  dread 

surmise, 
That  stabb'd  my  breast  deeper  than  steel  could 

reach ! 

Let  me  adore  the  mercy  of  the  Gods, 
Who  show  how  man  may  expiate  his  crimes, 
Ere  they  have  scorch'd  him  into  nothingness. 

Have  I  not  heard  a  foot-step !     Aulus  comes, 
To  tell  the  consummation  of  our  hopes!  — 
The  sound  has  ceased;  or  lived  but  to  my  fancy. 
Ere  this,  some  token  of  deliverance 
Should  have  been  brought  me. — 

Ha!     These  shouts  are  music ; 
For  they  arise  from  the  Great  Warrior's  temple. 
Where  (after  gifts  had  satisfied  the  earth) 
It  was  our  nobles'  purpose  to  equip 
My  Curtius  in  his  armor,  ere  he  came 
To  give  me  all  himself.     What !  more  applause 
Lavished  on  Marcus !  Rome's  great  heart  is  his  ! 
My  love  has  proudest  sanction.     Why  does  Joy 
Heap  its  rich  treasures  on  a  life  so  young, 


60  LYTERIA : 

While  they  whose  years  of  sufferance  earn  such 

wealth 
Pass  to  the  grave  unheeded  ?  — 

Yes!  at  length, 
My  promised  messenger  returns  with  tidings. 

(Enter  Aulus.) 

The  ransom  is  accepted !     Rome  is  saved !  — 
Stay  not  for  form,  —  give  air  unto  your  news. 

AULUS. 

Breathe  then,  before  I  utter  the  sad  tale 
That  makes  my  message;  for  its  terror  strikes 
So  nearly  at  the  life,  that  the  light  air, 
Which  now  surrounds  thy  form,  will  seem  op- 

press'd 
With  poison. 

LYTERIA. 

"  Poison ! "  —  "  terror !  "  —  Words  like  these 
But  little  suit  the  people's  joyful  shout, 
That  rings  from  yonder  temple.     The  kind  Gods, 
Appeased  by  man's  submission,  lift  their  frown 
From  the  scorch'd  earth !     Our  offerings  are  ac 
cepted? 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  61 

AULUS. 

Alas !  the  treasures  pour'd  into  the  gulf 
Have  not  fulfill'd  the  mystic  words  of  fate, 
Which  form'd  our  Oracle. 
With  princely  largess  furnish'd  by  the  State, 
And  jewels,  Varrus'  generous  hand  supplied, — 
With  treasures  spoil'd  from  palace,  and  from 

fane, 

In  vain  we  strove  to  gorge  the  gaping  earth;  — 
But  still,  the  pit  belch'd  forth  its  poison'd  vapor. 
Then,  last  of  all,  the  Statue,  (at  whose  shrine 
Tears,  vows,  and  prayers  of  generations  past 
Melted  the  Gods  to  pity,)  with  great  force, 
Upheaved  from  its  firm  base,  in  the  abyss 
With  deaf  ning  crash  descended.     Shuddering, 
With  fear  the  strange  profanity  we  view'd, 
While  Dcelius  raised  his  voice  in  earnest  prayer, 
Beseeching  heaven's  grace.     But  now  the  earth, 
Torn  by  some  new  convulsion,  hurl'd  our  gifts 
Back  on  the  trembling  plain.    Thus  are  our  pains 
Rejected. 

LYTERIA. 

Yet  these  plaudits  that  arose 
But  now,  seem'd  to  express  some  sudden  joy. 


62  LYTERIA : 

Go  seek  their  meaning.     Any  passer-by 
Returning  from  the  neighboring  fane  of  Mars, 
Can  give  solution  to  this  mystery. 

[Exit  Aldus. 

My  awful  fancies  clothe  themselves  in  shape, — 
Collect,  and  form  a  substance  palpable, 
That  chills  me  with  its  shadow. —  'Tis  a  thought : 
And  has  not  now  existence  so  denned 
As  the  first  breath  that  parts  an  infant's  lips !  — 
Fantastic  possibilities  of  Woe 
Relieve  the  heart  o'erburthen'd  else,  and  crush'd, 
Beneath  the  mighty  happiness  of  Love. — 
Depart,  unnatural  monster  of  my  brain ; 
And  thou,  dread  thought,  freeze  in  eternal  silence. 
Come  Night,  and  hold  me  in  thy  dark  embrace ; 
Lest  this  unreal  shape  look  forth  at  the  eye, 
And  palsy  Rome  with  horror ! 

(Re-enter  Auhis.) 

Whence  arose 
This  sudden  clamor  ? 

AULUS. 

It  was  from  the  square 

Before  the  temple,  where  the  crowd  bestow 
The  armor  upon  Curtius  :  —  The  great  noise 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  63 

Was  gratulation  at  an  omen  sent ;  — 
For  when  the  priest  advanced  to  take  the  casque, 
"With  which  to  crown  the  warrior  —  a  flash 
Of  lightning,  darting  from  a  cloud  that  sail'd 
Upon  the  Augurs'  left,  struck  the  bright  steel, 
And  at  the  feet  of  Curtius  tore  its  way 
Through  the  unyielding  earth  :  —  And  thus  they 

read  it, — 
"  Heaven's  own  strength  shall  clothe  the  arm  of 

Marcus, 
And  bring  confusion  to  the  foes  of  Rome." 

LYTERIA. 

Who  thus  interprets  ? 


AULUS. 

Doelius,  thy  father. 

LYTERIA. 

Why,  then,  no  doubt  'tis  right:  Who  is  so  wise 
As   Doelius  :    who  so  pure  —  Jove   would  not 

blind 

His  truest  servant ; —  still  Doubt  sways  my  spirit. 
Tell  me,  good  Aulus,  tell  me,  may  not  prayer, 


64  LYTERIA : 

Pour'd  from  thy  pious  lips,  and  from  my  sire's, 
Compel  the  heavens  to  show  where  safety  lies  ? 

AULUS. 

In  patient  waiting  on  the  will  divine, 
And  still  submission,  prayer  shows  meetest  now. 

LYTERIA. 

The  order  is  obey'd,  even  to  the  letter;  — 
For  what  has  Rome  more  precious  to  bestow, 
Than  the  divine  similitude  of  Jove? 

AULUS  (after  a  pause]. 

Dost  ask  that  question? —  Must  I  then  reject 
A  thought,  that  as  those  words  fell  from  thy  lips, 
Seem'd  stamp'd  by  inspiration  on  my  soul  ?  — 
The  cunning  labor  of  man's  hand  is  meet 
Oblation  to  be  render'd  to  his  fellow ; 
But  to  Creative  Essence  we  should  yield 
What  its  own  might  has  fashion'd:  —  Fruit  and 

flowers, 

With  blood  of  guiltless  beast,  in  common  times, 
May  pay  the  service  gratitude  demands. 
Yet  seasons  come,  when  human  lust  and  pride 
Blaspheme  the  patient  Gods,  till  waked  to  wrath, 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  65 

They  claim  tremendous  expiation.  —  Then, 
What  the  soul  most  clings  to,  must  be  given. 
Something,  so  dear  and  precious,  that  the  heart, 
Torn  at  its  loss,  may  pour  its  vital  blood,  — 
And  haughty  Will,  slain  on  a  living  altar, 
Pay  the  sole  tribute  Heaven  will  accept. 

LYTERIA. 

Cease  such  mysterious  words;  —  for  tho'  I  see 
Not  all  their  meaning,  yet  I  know  they  wrong 
The  Gods  we  worship.    Priests  have  slander'd  oft 
The  power  they  feign'd  to  reverence ! 

AULUS. 

Sometime 

'Tis  so;  —  but  now,  an  instinct  tells  my  soul, 
That  unto  thee  alone,  of  all  our  world, 
The  Gods  have  shown  their  pleasure.     Do  not 

shrink  — 

The  secret  is  most  safe,  if  thy  wrought  brain 
Unconsciously  has  printed  it  on  mine.  — 
The  messenger  is  chosen;  —  and  my  lips 
Are  seal'd  to  silence :  —  yet  most  blind  were  we 
Not  to  perceive  man's  craft,  or  nature's  wealth, 

5 


66  LYTERIA  : 


Cannot  elaborate  that  conscious  self — 
The  noblest  offering  we  can  render  Heaven. 


LYTERIA. 

Hold,  Aulus!  —  and  beware  that  fatal  pride, 
Most  common  to  thy  order;  —  Do  not  take 
Thy  own  crude  fancies  for  decrees  of  Heaven. 
Such   great   presumption,   weighing   down  the 

mind, 

(Which  piety  and  study  else  exalt) 
Poisons  its  teaching,  and  gives  worldly  men 
Much  cause  to  jeer  the  ministers  of  Jove. 

AULUS. 

Unhappy  maiden,  whom  stern  fate  elects 
To  bear  a  grief  beyond  thy  mortal  strength, 
'Tis  not  for  me  to  blame  the  desperate  hope, 
That  burthens  human  pride,  with  the  clear  beams 
Of  knowledge,  shot  from  heights  whence  Truth 

may  shine 

Without  distortion.     Every  path,  my  child, 
Hath  issue  there.     The  common  chance  of  life 
Metes  out  the  truth  in  merciful  allotments, 
As  pain's  rude  buffets  make  the  growing  soul 
Strong  to  receive  it.     Yet  'tis  sometimes  sent 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  67 

In  one  short  struggle,  whence  the  youth  may  rise 
To  wisdom  more  sublime,  than  the  hard  tasks 
Conn'd  'neath  Time's  discipline  can  bring  our 
Age. 

LYTERIA. 

Such  rude  uplifting  Heaven  avert  from  me ! 
With  meek  submission,  rather  let  me  seek 
To  tread  the  teaching  steps  of  those,  whom  nature 
Appoints  my  guides. 

AULUS. 

When  beckon'd  to  the  sky, 
We  may  not  choose  the  wings  to  bear  us  up. 
When  priests  and  people  read  not  fate's  decree, 
When  earth  and  sky  are  blank  to  asking  eyes, 
There  is  a  gentle  voice,  that  to  the  soul 
Interprets  Heaven's  command.  —  Does  no  loved 

name 

Thrill  with  an  awful  whisper  to  thy  soul, 
While  Rome  and  her  sad  children,  frantic  ask 
Which  way  salvation  comes  ? 

LYTERIA. 

Aulus,  no  more !  — 
The  Powers  who  show  thee  their  august  demand, 


68  LYTERIA : 

Would  give  support  through  human  sympathy, 
To  the  great  task  they  urge  me  to  perform : 
For  that  I  should  be  thankful;  —  but  Despair, 
Who  holds  his  lordly  session  in  my  breast, 
Will  brook  no  gentler  feeling. 

AULUS. 

The  stern  sense 

Of  hardly  purchased  Right,  exalts  us  more 
Than  friendly  pity,  or  the  world's  applause. 
Remember  this :  and  know  that  Heaven  supports 
The  instrument  it  chooses. —  Some  one  comes. 
Commune  some  lonely  moments  with  thyself, 
And  courage  shall  be  given  :  for,  holy  maid, 
The  Gods  have  chosen  well; — thy  innocence 
Is  strength  celestial;  —  thou  shalt  nobly  triumph. 

LYTERIA. 

Yet,  give  me  prayers  —  prayers  —  Aulus,  lest  I 

faint,  — 
And  so  fail  utterly. 

[Exit  Lyteria. 
AULUS. 

Alas !  not  less 
Rome  shall  require  our  prayers,  if  this  young  pair 


A  DRAMATIC   POEM.  69 

Must  perish  for  her  sake. 

Strange!  that  so  hard  a  task  should  be  assign'd 
To  instruments  untried  ;  while  those  whose  lives 
Have  daily  worshipp'd  Jove  are  left  untested.  — 
How  goes  the  day  ? 

(Enter  Prothus.) 

PROTHUS. 

The  rites  before  the  throng 

Conclude  most  happily.   The  well  armed  Curtius, 
Attended  by  the  Consul  and  our  priests, 
Comes  to  fulfil  his  marriage.     But  the  bride  — 
Should  she  not  wait  his  coming  ? 

AULUS. 

She  left  me 

Upon  thy  entrance.     When  the  time  arrives, 
She  will  be  ready.     Have  the  people  all 
This  mien  untroubled  ?  —  Is  the  curse  forgot 
That  rests  upon  them  ? 

PROTHUS. 

Yes;  the  fickle  crowd, 

Drunken  with  show  and  noise,  laugh  in  death's 
clutch, 


70  LTTERIA. 

And  mock  the  wrath  of  Heaven ;  yet  such  ap 
plause 

But  little  suits  with  Doelius'  sad  face, 
The  grave  demeanor  of  the  thinking  few, 
Or  the  stern  frown  that  clouds  the  Consul's  brow. 
(Enter  Publius.} 

PUBLIUS. 

A  new  response  the  Oracle  has  given, 
Breathing  some  hope  to  Rome.     These  were  the 

words  — 

"  The  treasure  Jove  demands  shall  be  revealed 
To  the  most  valued  inmate  of  his  temple :  " — 
Thus  'tis  most  like  some  priest  shall  be  inspired 
To  signify  His  will. 

PROTHUS. 

This  seems  like  hope. — 
Have  Dcelius  and  our  nobles  heard  thy  news  ? 

PUBLIUS. 
I  look'd  to  find  them  here. 

PROTHUS. 

They  now  approach. 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  /I 

Come,  we  will  meet  them,  and  announce  this 
message. 

Clouds,  that  now  lift  to  us,  should  be  dispell'd 

From  those  whom  they  oppress  with  equal  sad 
ness. 

This  is  the  way  — 

PUBLIUS. 

I  follow  willingly. 
[Exeunt  Prothus  and  Publius. 

AULUS. 

This  inward  warning  was  not  fancy's  trick, 
But  heaven-sent  augury.     To  woman's  strength 
A  trial  is  assigned,  that  well  might  task 
Man's  less  enduring  nature,  to  a  point 
Beyond  its  sufferance.     Yet  can  it  be 
That  she  has  trust  and  courage  firm  enough, 
For  such  supreme  devotion  ?     Will  not  her  lips, 
Glued  by  a  human  weakness,  fail  to  speak 
The  whisper'd  words  of  Heaven? 
(Re-enter  Lyteria.} 

LYTERIA. 

Aulus !  — 


72  LYTERIA  : 

AULUS. 

Returned  so  soon ! 

LYTERIA. 

So  soon  —  Dost  thou  not  know 
Life  at  some  seasons  keeps  no  pace  with  Time  — 
Hearts  may  grow  cold,  and  the  quick  blood  of 

youth 

Lag  with  Eld's  sluggish  current  through  the  veins, 
While  the  frail  insect,  born  for  one  short  day, 
Wakes  its  first  pcean  for  the  gift  of  life :  — 
Yes !  I  have  learn'd  the  message  Publius  brought : 
Answer  me  not —  for  I  have  heard,  but  now, 
Teachings  from   tongues,  more  eloquent  than 

thine  — 
If  I  am  proof  to  these,  thy  words  are  wasted. 

AULUS. 

Yes!  I  believe  thy  counsel  comes  from  Heaven  — 
May  it  still  wait  upon  thee,  and  reveal 
The  shrouded  love,  that  deals  with  man  in  sor 
row; 

And  may  thy  Faith  still  point  thee  to  a  time, 
When  all  that  here  is  doubtful,  or  obscure, 
Shall  be  unriddled.     'Tis  the  only  comfort 
Vouchsafed  to  human  suffering. 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  73 

LYTERIA. 

Yet  who, 

By  wishing,  can  acquire  a  trust  so  strong, 
That  the  affections  of  earth's  brightest  hours 
Shall  melt  before  it?     Reason  cannot  give 
This  confidence ;  nor  comes  it  from  desire 
To  pierce  the  gloom,  and  view  the  mighty  Source 
Whence  we  proceed,  and  where  our  being  tends. 
Such  wisdom  must  be  grafted  on  the  heart, 
When  first  'twas  waked  to  life,  or  gently  press'd 
Upon  the  soul,  by  friends  who  laid  aside 
This  mortal  form  to  be  more  closely  with  us :  — 
Are  the  gates  op'ning?  —  Do  I  hear  their  hinges 
Utter  a  deep  wail;  — 
As  conscious  of  the  destiny  of  him 
Who  enters  to  destruction ! 

AULUS. 

Thou'rt  not  deceived. 
Our  friends  already  fill  the  inner  court. 

LYTERIA. 

Tell  them,  I  am  prepared ;  leave  me  an  instant. 

[Exit  Aulus. 


74  LYTEKIA : 

Alone,  a  moment  more  —  before  the  deed  — 
And  then  — alone  forever  :  —  Mighty  Gods, 
Raise  and  exalt  me  to  my  solemn  work  ;  — 
Let  my  weak  mind,  sway'd  by  your  higher  wis 
dom, 

Be  moulded  to  your  likeness :  let  me  feel 
That  human  love  but  copies  love  divine 
In  aiding  general  weal,  through  private  grief. 

The  time  has  come — His  step,  cumber'd  with 

steel, 

Strikes  heavily  the  earth,  and  dissipates 
All  power !  —  What  price  too  great  to  hold  him 

here ! — 
Here!   to    myself!     What    interest    strong    as 

mine !  — 

Cease,  cruel  Power,  that  prompts  me  to  this  deed ! 
Elect  some  higher  agent.     I  am  mortal ! 
(Enter  Dcelius,  Lucius,  Publius,  Curtius,  and 
others.) 

DCELIUS. 

Thy  message,  Publius,  comes  most  happily. 
We  are  not  all  deserted,  if  the  Gods 
Shall  deign  to  speak  Rome's  comfort  by  our  lips. 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  75 

We  wait  their  inspiration  ;  while  with  hearts 
Lighten'd  of  half  their  fear,  we  join  this  pair 
In  marriage.  Daughter !  thy  pale  cheek  should 

show 

Some  living  color :  cease  to  think  of  Rome 
For  this  one  hour,  when  life's  great  epoch  stands 
Athwart  thy  path. 

LYTERIA. 

Forgetfulness  is  not 

In  mortal  power :  and  wisely  't  is  denied  ;  — 
For  who  would  not  expunge  joy's  shadow'd  trace, 
So  those  dark  stains  that  mottle  life  to  all, 
Might  cease  to  haunt  the  memory. 

CURTIUS. 

Cans't  thou 

Remember  aught  save  the  rich  blessings  shower'd 
About  our  steps  ?  —  the  popular  applause,  — 
The  favor  of  our  worthiest  citizens, — 
This  honor'd  mail  by  acclamation  given  ?  — 
And  now,  more  sweet  than  all,  the  rite  that  seals 
Thee  mine  forever,  banishes  all  sense, 
All  feeling,  but  of  rapture  ! 


76  LYTERTA : 

LYTERIA. 

As  we  deck 

The  victims  destined  to  our  sacrifice, 
So  fortune  sometimes  lends  us  every  grace, 
When  the  great  doom  is  nearest.     Yet  think  not 
I  would  obscure  the  ruddy  light  that  beams 
To  thy  fond  hope. —  Thus  may  it  ever  shine. 

CURTIUS. 

Thou  must  not  think  the  lauding  tongues  of  men, 
Who  may  to-morrow  strain  their  throats  to  hail 
Some  sycophantic  knave,  have  satisfied 
My  selfish  craving;  'tis  that  the  high  place, 
Reach'd  through  their  favor  gives  me  power  to 

serve 

The  State,  our  parent,  and  to  pay  those  dues 
Ow'd  to  our  race,  that  have  the  power  above 
All  selfish  joy  to  make  us  truly  bless'd. 

LYTERIA. 

There  spoke  the  noble  spirit  I  have  loved. 
Thou  still  wilt  hold  this  truth  e'en  as  thy  life. — 

CURTIUS. 
Till  death  shall  strike  the  reason  from  my  brain, 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  77 

And  quench  the  fire  of  conscience. 

AULUS. 

Approach  the  altar  where  thy  father  waits ;  — 
After  the  rite  there  shall  be  time  for  converse. 

DCELIUS. 

Ye  now  appear  to  consecrate  your  lives 
Each  to  the  other ;  —  undertaking  both 
The  holiest,  tenderest  offices  that  man 
May  render  to  his  fellow. 
But 't  is  to  be  remember'd  that  each  word, 
Each  inarticulate  thought,  is  register'd 
By  witnesses  unseen.     So  will  the  crime 
Glare  to  celestial  vision,  if  firm  will 
Be  wanting  to  perform  all  that  is  promised. 

LUCIUS. 

How  say  you,  Marcus,  wilt  thou  take  this  rnaid? 
Art  thou  prepared  to  love  and  reverence 
Her  woman's  sense  of  justice,  and  the  heart, 
More  prone  to  sink  expedience  for  the  right, 
Than  that  which  man  must  carry  ?     Hast  thou 

purpose 
To  listen  to  her  words  in  hours  of  trial, — 


78  LYTERIA  : 


When  Heaven  lends  to  those  who  love  us  best 
A  truer  sense  than  nature  ever  gives 

o 

Our  worldly  instinct  ?     Say,  art  thou  prepared 
To  make  these  promises  ? 


CURTIUS. 

The  privilege 

Of  taking  such  blest  vows,  I  count  great  cause 
Of  gratitude. 

DCELIUS. 

Placing  thy  hand  upon 

This  altar,  swear,  that  thou  wilt  strive  to  keep 
The  promises  impressed  by  solemn  custom 
On  all  united  by  the  marriage  tie.  — 

Now,  daughter,  listen  what  thy  duties  are  :  — 
'Tis  thine  to  cultivate  the  gentler  virtues, 
Which,    drawing    man    towards    the    domestic 

hearth, 

Form  his  bestguard  from  ill.  Strive  to  be  cheerful. 
Never  disposed  to  see  the  passing  clouds, 
That  discontent  may  find  in  any  sky  ; 
But  let  thy  smile  supply  the  suns  of  fortune, 
When  screen'd  by  trouble. 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  79 

LUCIUS. 

Likewise  be  assured, 
That  we  possess  no  joy  for  private  use; 
But   that   mankind    should   share   the   gifts  of 

Heaven, 

Whereof  the  few  are  chosen  almoners. 
Show  no  weak  love  in  seeking  to  detain 
Thy    chief    from    dangerous    honor;    for    thou 

know'st, 

That  'tis  through  private  suffering  the  Gods 
Heap  greatest  favors  on  the  multitude. 
In  fine,  be  open  ;  utter  fearlessly 
Whatever  truth  may  urge.    Obey  the  prompting 
Of  thy  most  noble  self.     So  shall  thy  love 
Point  Curtius  to  renown. 

DGELIUS. 

If  thou  art  prepared 

To  take  these  trusts,  call  the  truth-loving  Gods 
To  witness  it. 

LYTERIA. 

No  trifling  invocation 
Should  ask  such  Presence; — let  me  give  some 

moments 
To  silent  prayer,  before  an  act  so  solemn. 


80    •  LYTERIA. 

DCELIUS. 

Upon  this  altar  gently  rest  thy  hand, — 
And  when  prepared,  uplift  it  to  the  sky ; 
Praying  the  Gods,  who  register  thine  oath, 
May  give  thee  strength  to  keep  it. 
(Enter  a  Citizen.') 

Ha !  who  breaks 
Our  unconcluded  service  ? 

CITIZEN. 

Pardon,  sir;  — 

'Tis  not  my  own  desire  that  interrupts 
These  sacred  offices.     The  crowd  without, 
Stricken  with  panic  by  a  sudden  wind, 
That  bears  the  noxious  vapor  from  the  pit 
About  this  temple,  thrust  me  to  your  presence, 
To  learn  if  Jove  has  signified  the  means 
Of  our  deliverance  —  as  we  learn'd  to  hope. 

LYTERIA. 

Yes  !  —  The  great  inspiration  in  my  breast 
Burning  for  utterance,  makes  its  instrument 
Preeminent  in  knowledge,  as  in  woe. 
The  heaven-demanded  gift  no  more  is  veil'd 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  81 

In  doubtful  language,  but  each  index  points 
Its  stubborn  finger  where  redemption  lies. 

Father,  and  you,  sir,  who  deserve  that  name 

From  him  who  calls  me  wife,  give  me  support 

In  following  your  counsels.     I  have  sworn, — 

If  fate  should  offer  me  the  bitter  choice, — 

To  hold  the  honor  of  the  man  I  love 

Above  all  private  feeling.     Perjury 

To  the  high  Gods  ;  distrust  of  him  whose  choice 

Hath  touch'd  a  life  with  radiance,  should  not  be 

The  primal  acts  of  union. —  The  demand 

Made  by  the  Oracle  I  must  expound, — 

And  crushing  nature,  raise  our  prostrate  Rome. 

Written  on  every  hand,  but  strangely  dark 
To  our  gross  vision,  the  decrees  of  Jove 
Break  on  the  soul,  pall'd  in  the  wonderment 
Of  its  own  blindness.  "  The  most  precious  gift " — 
Is  not  the  breathing  consciousness  we  hold 
As  Heaven's  choicest  blessing, —  Is  not  this, — 
A  tribute  worthier  to  appease  its  Source 
Than   Labor's  produce?      What   is   'prized   of 
Rome  ? ' 
6 


82  LYTERIA  : 

Have  ye  not  heard  the  very  pavement  shout 
As  Curtius  trode  the  street?  —  Do  ye  not  give 
The  armor  that  he  bears,  —  and  in  the  light'ning 
Foresee  his  coming  fame  ? —  Must  /repeat 
A  name  all  Rome  has  clamor'd !  — 

Marcus  Curtius, 
I,  that  should  crown  this  day  with   Love's  best 

gift, 

Now  point  the  way  to  death.     Glory  has  shone 
About  thy  brief  career;  —  no  step  of  thine 
But  left  its  trace  of  radiance  ;  —  Thou  alone, 
By  modesty  prevented  as  a  shield, 
Hast  walk'd  unconscious  :  —  I,  in  shade  apart, 
Have  seen  the  open  Heavens  beckon  thee,  — 
While  Earth  yearns  for  the  last  embrace  of  him, 
Whose  place  above  is  won. 

Now  !  with  one  voice, 

Ye  Romans,  shout  your  safety ;  for  I  crave 
The  poor  approval  custom  gives  brave  deeds!  — 
Yet  first!  break  silence  thou!  of  whose  support 
It  would  be  sin  to  doubt  —  Marcus,  come  hither ! 
Fold  me  to  thy  heart  —  say,  I  have  done  well !  — 
Or  else  thy  silence,  drowns  the  thousand  tongues 
That  urged  me  to  the  deed !  — 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM. 


No  word  !  —  No  breath !  — 

Dost  thou  repel  me,  and  these  friends  stand  fix'd 
As  statues  to  behold  it! —  Fool!  to  think 
The  cunning  Gods  had  yet  no  pang  reserved !  — 
I  had  not  look'd  for  this  ! 

(She  falls  upon  the  pavement.} 


The  Act  closes 


84 


LYTERIA  : 


ACT  IV. 

A  grove  near  the   Temple.     Publius  and  Aulus 
discovered. 

PUBLIUS. 

The  hidden  meaning  of  the  Oracle 
Was  shown  to  thee,  before  those  awful  words 
Discovered  it  to  Rome  ? 

AULUS. 

The  strife  that  rent 

Lyteria's  soul,  was  figured  in  the  mien, 
She  could  not  all  control.     This  show'd  me  first 
Where   pointed  Jove's  requirement.     Bufc  such 

strength 
I  hardly  deem'd  could  rule  in  woman's  breast. 

PUBLIUS. 

Capacity  to  serve  its  high  behest, 
Heaven  measures  not  as  we.     Hath  she  put  off 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  85 

The  veil  Oblivion  lent,  to  wrap  her  nature 
From  Sorrow's  chilling  touch  ? 

AULUS. 

She  wakes  to  life : 

Her  spirit  now  informs  the  quicken'd  flesh 
With  suffering;  yet  no  complaint  is  breath'd  ;  — 
No  tear  relieves  the  anguish  of  the  soul ; 
But  calmness,  not  of  earth,  lights  her  clear  brow, 
As  if  the  heart  nourish'd  a  grief  too  great, 
To  show  such  sign  as  common  trouble  writes 
Upon  the  visage.     Publius,  you  have  watch'd 
The  rip'ning  strength  of  Curtius ;  can  he  tread 
This  short  rough  path  to  glory  ? 

PUBLIUS. 

Who  can  judge, 

From  any  past  experience  of  the  power 
To  meet  such  fearful  trial !     He  was  brave, 
Noble  and  generous,  when  Rome  claim'd  less 
His  aid,  —  but  in  the  present  case  —  'tis  Jove 
Who  knows  the  issue.     Still,  he  walks  this  grove 
With  the  quick  stride  that  bore  him  from  our 
sight, 


86  LYTERIA  : 

After  the  broken  rite.     His  face  seems  stamp'd 
With  the  hard  lines  of  age  ;  his  eye  as  fix'd 
As  the  blank  orb  that  fails  to  light  the  stone, 
Which  else  would  breathe  as  we.     No  word  he 

speaks, 

But  motions  from  his  side  all  who  approach 
With  words  of  courage  or  of  sympathy :  — 
This  have  I  heard,  and  now,  compell'd  thereto 
By  those  who  love  him  most,  I  come  to  try 
If  he  will  waste  some  speech  upon  a  friend, 
He  ever  claim'd  to  value. 

AULUS. 

See  —  he  comes  : 

Such  meetings  ask  no  witness  :  I  shall  wait 
With  others  in  the  temple  ;  —  doubting  much 
If  human  strength  can 
Fate  thrusts  upon  him. 


If  human  strength  can  bear  the  awful  end 


[Exit  Aulus. 
(Enter  Cur  tins.} 

PUBLIUS. 

I  would  greet  thee,  Marcus  : 
Do  not  withdraw  thy  hand  from  him,  whose  lips 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  87 

Should  not  repeat  the  proofs  of  early  love, 
That  well  may  claim  the  privilege  to  soothe 
The  troubles  of  thy  heart,  with  sympathy. 

CURTIUS. 

No  pity,  Publius,  —  'tis  but  empty  breath  — 
No  prompting  —  and  no  counsel  —  If  my  soul, 
Crush'd  with  its  fetters,  has  not  strength  to  break 
The  heavy  chain,  that  fate  has  cast  about  me  — 
I  must  be  ever  bound  —  Nay,  friend,  no  words  — 
I  best  may  bear  my  misery,  —  alone. 

PUBLIUS. 

Oh,  not  alone!  for  mortal  grief  unshared 
Hath  keenest  touch.     If  not  to  me,  to  friends 
Of  better  worth,  relieve  thy  burthen'd  heart :  — 
To  summon  such,  I  gladly  yield  my  claim. 

CURTIUS. 

Well,  thou  art  right :  —  The  truest  friend  to  man 
Should  be  the  wife,  he  chose  from  all  the  world. 
Send  then  Lyteria.     Say,  that  I  have  ask'd 
A  little  speech  with  her :  —  This  should  suffice. 


88  LYTERIA  : 

PUBLIUS. 

Most  gladly  is  the  office  I  would  take 
Left  to  her  lips,  new-hallow'd  by  the  touch 
Of  messages  celestial,  —  not  alone 
Chosen  to  speak  Heaven's  judgment,  but  inform'd 
With  the  deep  consolation  love  may  shed 
Upon  the  mighty  mysteries,  which  at  times 
Press  our  cramp'd  sense,  until  the  ignorant  mind, 
Sick'ning  in  blindness,  wastes  within  its  cell, 
Consum'd  by  its  own  hunger.     She  shall  come 
To  share  thy  grief,  —  if  not  to  soften  it. 

[Exit  Publius. 
CURTIUS. 

Here  let  me  wait  her  coming;  —  that  the  breeze, 
Caressing  fitfully  this  glowing  cheek, 
May  cool  the  fever'd  tide,  that  burns  its  passage. 
Let  me  forget  what  hopes  the  morning  knew, 
And  only  feel  this  present  wretchedness. 
Away,  ye  burning  thoughts,  that  riot  thus 
Through  the  hot  brain  ;  like  fiends  who  clothe 

themselves 

With  living  flesh,  to  play  their  ghastly  antics ! 
She  will  not  come ;  she  cannot  face  the  husband, 
Doom'd  by  her  lips,  ere  press'd  with  the  first  kiss 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  89 

Of  wedded  passion.     Better  keep  the  darkness 
She  has  embraced,  than  in  the  light  of  Heaven 
To  gaze  upon  the  wreck  of  him,  who  seem'd 
Her  dearest  part  of  life.     I  have  known  those, 
Who  scoffed  at  woman's  feeling,  boasting  loud, 
That  any  specious  flattery  could  win 
Her  word-creating  love.     I  little  thought 
To  blazon  forth  the  truth  of  such  coarse  jests, — 
Urged  to  destruction  by  a  syren  voice, 
Whose  music  stole  away  all  manly  power 
To  snare  the  victim  surely.     She  is  here! 
Unless  the  form,  oft  mirror'd  in  the  eye, 
Still  lingers  to  deceive.     Strange  to  believe 
The  dull  reflection  could  survive  the  love 
That  warm'd  it  into  being. 

(Enter  Lyteria.} 

Dost  thou  dare 
To  visit  me?  —  to  answer  thus  my  bidding? 

LYTERIA. 

Yes !  at  thy  will ;  which  when  it  speaks  command, 

It  is  not  less  my  duty  to  obey, 

Than  when   constrain'd   by  love,  I   could    not 

choose 
But  answer  its  behest,  unbreath'd  in  words. 


90  LYTERIA : 

CURTIUS. 

The  service  will  be  brief,  prompted  by  love 
Or  duty.     Time  has  been,  I  should  have  deem'd 
The  longest  life  just  nature  could  bestow, 
As  guerdon  to  the  few  who  keep  her  laws, 
A  span  too  short  to  measure  half  the  love 
I  yearn'd  to  pour  upon  thee.     When  I  craved 
Advancement,  'twas  thy  fame  that  dazzled  most. 
When  offer'd  place  and  honor,  —  when  the  throng 
Threw  their  unpurchased  praises  at  my  feet, 
My  boyish  fancy  picturing  the  while 
A  greater  fame  to  follow,  —  'twas  thy  smile 
That  lit  ambition's  boundless  sky,  —  thy  love, 
That  seem'd  the  only  prize  worthy  to  bless 
A  life  of  struggle. 

LYTERIA. 

Have  Jsuffer'd  nothing? 
Has  not  full  measure  of  all  earthly  ill 
Been  meted  to  my  portion  ?  —  Crush'd  at  last 
By  thy  distrust  in  that  dark  hour,  when  doubt 
From  thee,  struck  deeper  than  the  angry  shafts 
That  Fate  aim'd  at  my  bosom. 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  91 

CURTIUS. 

Cans't  thou  speak 

Of  petty  trial,  when  the  soul  of  him, 
Whom  thou  hast  claim'd  to  value  as  thyself, 
Waits  on  the  bank  of  ruin?  —  while  alas! 
The  Sense  is  unillum'd,  and  reason's  lamp, 
Given  to  guide  man's  instinct,  sheds  no  ray 
On  Heaven's  dark  dealings!  , 

LYTERIA. 

But  that  reason  warns, 

That  man  should  not  confine  celestial  wisdom 
To  narrow  bounds  where  he  may  read  its  purpose. 
Marcus!  this  thought  upheld  me;  —  or  ere  this 
My  grief  had  conquer'd  life.    When  first  I  bow'd 
In  anguish  to  the  earth,  striving  to  stay 
The  utterance,  that  Influence  more  strong 
Than  human  will  claim'd  from  my  lips,  I  breathed 
An  atmosphere  of  fire.     The  ground  was  moved 
Beneath  me,  while  the  sun  his  solemn  progress 
Quitted,  and  seem'd  to  reel  along  his  course. 
The  mighty  presence  of  that  misery 
Swell'd  through  this  frame,  and  soon  had  thrust 
my  soul 


•92  LYTERIA  : 

Forth  from  its  prison  to  the  genial  air, 

Had  not  fresh  fetters,  forged  by  Jove's  own  hand, 

Bound  it  anew  to  earth;  yet  raised  by  aids 

Unseen,  and  in  unnatural  ecstasy 

Borne  on,  I  wrought  the  will  divine.     And  this 

Support,  impressed  upon  my  soul,  charm'd  doubt 

And  mortal  weakness.     Man  is  not  allow'd 

To  fathom  the  great  mysteries  of  Jove, 

Nor  weigh  eternal  justice,  which  regards 

With  equal  survey  the  whole  race  of  man, 

And  wills  the  general  welfare:  —  Nor  alone 

For  mortal  interest  that  Care  consults, 

But  with  its  blessing  vision,  still  enfolds 

The  countless  beings  bearing  human  form, 

Fashion'd  from  deathless  fabric,  which  of  old 

Commun'd  with  mortals ;  and  again  may  hold 

Such  sacred  intercourse,  when  later  days 

-Shall  find  our  race  redeem'd  through  sufferance 

To  that  pure  state,  when  voices  that  now  call 

Us  to  the  skies,  shall  be  as  plainly  heard 

As  these  poor  words,  wherein  I  speak  of  them 

CURTIUS. 

Has  man  no  right  to  question  the  decree. 
That  claims  the  greatest  proof  our  faith  can  offer? 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  93 

LYTERIA. 

No!  not  the  greatest;  —  for  although  the  world 
Counts  every  pang  that  strikes  the  human  breast 
In  service  so  conspicuous,  and  lauds 
(As  it  is  meet  it  should)  the  champion  doom'd 
In  one  great  act  to  yield  all  men  most  prize  — 
Yet  stronger  trust  must  nourish  the  long  lives 
Of  those,  who,  in  obscurity  and  toil, 
Receive  a  poison  with  each  vital  draught, 
Which  still  supplies  the  wasting  heart  of  Want 
With  energy  to  suffer;  —  Thou  hast  been 
Most  blest  in  golden  opportunity 
To  show  the  virtue  glowing  in  thy  breast  — 
But  think  of  him, who  feels,  (it  maybe,)  longing 
Strong  as  thine  own  for  honorable  service, 
Whose  genius  claims  a  place  no  less  exalted, 
Than  that  where  thou  hast  stood;  —  yet,  bound 

by  fate 

To  poverty,  —  or  chained,  with  fetters  forged 
By  sin  ancestral,  to  some  feeble  frame, 
That  may  not  act  the  mandate  of  the  will,  — 
Supports  through  life  a  spirit  vainly  striving 
With  destiny  no  mortal  strength  can  master. 
I  have  mark'd  men,  unpitied  and  unknown, 
Battling,  'gainst  hope,  with  stern  adversity;  — 


94  LYTERIA  : 

And  they  have  taught  me,  that  to  leave  the  heat 
Of  our  press'd  being,  drunk  with  the  applause 
Of  generations,  present  and  to  come, 
Asks  not  so  great  a  trust  in  Heaven's  love, 
As  to  endure  that  being,  stripp'd  of  all 
That  makes  our  bondage  pleasant. 

CURTIUS. 

The  soul,  fill'd 

With  its  own  misery,  pictures  as  fair 
All  other  forms  in  which  Woe  stalks  the  earth ; 
And  life,  with  all  its  agonies,  is  still 
So  precious,  that  we  fondly  cling  to  gross 
And  sensual  nature,  where  old  Use  so  ties 
The  wonted  spirit,  that  it  shrinks  to  leap 
Into  the  unknown  future. 

LYTERIA. 

'Tis  well  said. 

There  is  a  chilling  coolness  in  the  grave 
Which  we  must  fear,  even  when  life's  fever  burns 
Most  potently  within  us:  Some  rude  jar 
Must  shake  us  all,  when  earth's  last  tie  is  broke. 
And  most  they  feel,  who,  pushed  by  Age,  or 
whipp'd 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  95 

By  licensed  vice,  are  hurried  to  their  doom ;  — 
But  to  the  agent  Jove  selects  to  free 
His  city  from  destruction  —  the  great  night 
Of  breathing  nature  shall  be  lit  with  fires, 
Kindled  by  love  in  every  beating  heart, 
That  thrills  with  its  deliverance.     A  fame, 
The  highest  man  can  covet,  shall  be  thine. 
So  long  as  Rome's  great  founder  shall  be  borne 
On  time's  enduring  stream,  —  so  long  as  children 
Learn  the  great  justice  that  stern  father  dealt 
To  those  whom  he  had  cherish'd,  thy  brave  name 
Shall  shine  conspicuous.     No  age  can  dim 
The  lustre  of  such  noble  sacrifice. 
When  chiefs  of  present  fame,  and  bards  who  sing 
Their  praises,  shall  exist  but  in  the  earth, 
From  whose  full  breast  new  tribes  shall  draw 

support, 

Thou  still  shalt  live — immortal  as  the  Right, 
Which  beckon' d  thee  to  Glory! 

CURTIUS. 

His  blood  flows 

Less  warmly  than  doth  mine,  who  could  resist 
Such  utterance.     Lyteria  —  wife  —  forgive 
The  lack  of  strength,  that  bred  the  sin  of  curs' d 


96  LYTERIA  : 

Suspicion.     Thou   art   true  —  true  —  and  most 
faithful. 

LYTERIA. 

Speak  not  of  that  —  but  tell  me,  I  am  stamp'd 
Once  more  with  love's  warm  signet  on  thy  heart- 

CURTIUS. 

I  blush  that  thou  shouldst  ask.     A  selfish  churl 
For   some  time  wore  the    semblance    men  call 

Curtius. 

Now  the  true  owner  rules.    I  hear,  through  thee, 
The  voice  of  inspiration,  and  obey 
Its  awful  mandate.  — Yet  how  strange  to  choose 
One  tied  to  earth  thus  strongly !   Why  take  hearts 
Beating  so  quick  to  life's  fresh  harmonies, 
While  thousands,  bending  beneath  age  and  care. 
Pray  for  the  end,  unanswer'd.     To  leave  thee, 
When  first  I  rightly  know  thine  excellence,  — 
Oh  't  is  a  fate  too  hard !     No,  —  I  blench  not,  — • 
Yet  some  complaint  must  struggle  to  the  air, 
When  the  celestial  fountain  of  such  love 
Js  rudely  turn'd  forever  from  his  path, 
It  leaped  from  earth  to  gladden,  and  to  bless. 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  97 

LYTERIA. 

Forever  ?     No  !     '  T  were  then  a  cruelty 
Beyond  all  sufferance.     Are  we  not  taught, 
By  instinct  strong  as  that  which  prompts  the  bee 
To  hive  the  summer  sweets,  that  our  advance 
By  every  uncheck'd  impulse  to  the  Truth, 
We  must  possess  hereafter?     Each  sad  step, 
By  which  we  slowly  climb  to  those  far  heights 
Of  purity  and  love,  where  man  shall  stand 
In  future  more  remote  than  human  thought 
Can  pierce,  shall  bless  us  through  time's  endless 

path 

That  all  earth's  sons  must  traverse. 
Think,   what   great   works  man's   energy   hath 

wrought, 

In  this,  his  primal  state;  —  the  mighty  tombs, 
Egyptian  labor  rear'd  to  tell  the  world 
Their  builders  are  forgot,  —  and  every  form 
Of  strength  or  beauty,  fashion'd  from  the  earth, 
Must  teach,  if  rightly  studied,  man's  strong  will 
Shall  finally  disperse  all  mists  that  hang 
Before  that  perfect  calm  of  happiness, 
Whereto  he  was  created  from  the  first. 
7 


98  LYTERIA : 

CURTIUS. 

In  woman,  unto  whom  the  Gods  allot 
Their  gravest  discipline,  they  plant  a  faith 
To  bear  in  patience,  life's  long  chastisement;  — 
But  when  man's  rarer  troubles  threaten  peace, 
His  soul,  unanchor'd,  floats  from  grief  to  grief, 
Craving  a  stay  denied.     Yet  to  perceive 
Such  trust,  in  one  elected  to  a  task 
Perform'd  so  nobly,  strikes  some  kindred  spark 
In  every  witness. 

See !  thy  father  comes, 
To  learn  the  true  fulfilment  of  thy  pledge. 
I  gladly  welcome  him. 

(Enter  D&lius.') 

Do  not  recall 

Past  weakness :  Let  the  word  die  on  thy  lip 
Unutter'd.     Self  returns. — 
The  name,  bequeath' d  in  honor,  still  is  borne 
By  him  who  knows  its  value.     Praise  not  me, 
But  give  your  thanks  to  her,  who  merits  them  — 
Does  Lucius  wait  within  the  Temple  still  ? 

DOBLIUS. 

Rome's  gravest  nobles  linger  in  our  courts, 
And  he  among  them. 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  99 

CURTIU8. 

Does  their  cooler  sense 
Receive  for  truth,  the  new  interpretation 
Of  the  dark  words  given  by  the  Oracle  ? 

D03LIUS. 

Reason,  more  strong  than  will,  compels  all  Rome 
To  marvel  at  her  dullness;  slow  to  hear 
What  e'en  mute  nature  utter'd.     She  receives 
This  rendering  of  the  mystic  words  of  fate;  — 
We  must  accept  what  Heaven  clearly  speaks. 

CURTIUS. 

And  I  accept  it  also.     I  delay 
Too  long  already,  —  Bring  me  quickly  then, 
To  the  dark  entrance  of  that  fane,  whose  altar 
Hungers  to  snatch  its  victim. 

LYTERIA. 

Oh,  not  yet ! 

Some  hours  are  left  us.     For  yon  setting  sun 
Ceases  to  draw  the  vapors  from  the  pit, 
That  strike  at  life  so  surely.     Not  until 
His  smile  relights  the  earth,  will  Plague's  foul 

breath 
Taint  this  pure  ether. 


100  LYTEHIA  : 

DCELIUS. 

Daughter,  thou  say'st  well. 

Some  hours  are  left  to  spend  in  that  sad  parting, 
The  city  claims  from  this,  her  noblest  son. 
Freighted  with  sacrifice  and  earnest  prayer, 
This  night  shall  leave  our  Temple,  where  all 

ranks 
Collected,   shall   have   poured   their   thanks   to 

Heaven, 

Who  gives  not  man  a  destiny  so  grand, 
Without  the  strength  to  bear  it. 

CURTIUS. 

Yes  —  the  strength  — 

It  will  be  — •  has  been  —  given.     And  yet  to  wait, 
When  every  nerve  is  tense  —  To  gaze  at  death 
'Through    fever'd   hours,  that  creep  so  slow   to 

watchers  — 

Well,  I  can  bear  this  also.  —  Doelius, 
This  memory  still  enfolds  thy  teaching  past, — 
Yet,  for  an  instant,  leave  the  austere  speech, 
In  which  your  order  cloak  each  throb  of  passion, 
Let  me  but  feel  one  breath  of  human  pity;  — 
One  whispered  word  —  not  spoke  in  doubt  —  but 

wonder, 
At  the  quick  sacrifice  your  Gods  command. 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  101 

'Twill  break  the  cloud,  which  keeps  the  sympathy 
Bred  in  thy  heart,  from  giving  life  to  mine. 

DCELIUS. 

If  these  rough  cheeks  are  yet  untraced  by  tears, — 
If  the  voice  holds  its  wonted  cadencies, — 
It  is  because  the  heart  disdains  to  give 
A  grief  so  great,  such  impotent  expression. 
And,  partly,  that  the  Power,  who  leaves  old  Age 
Exposed  to  shocks  that  conquer  younger  hearts, 
But  rarely  calls  our  tears  to  answer  them. 
Still,  be  assured,  that  would  Jove  take  my  life, 
And  let  my  child,  and  him  who  sways  her  breast 
Cling  to  the  Earth,  whose  perfumes  infinite 
Pass,  unabsorb'd,  these  wither'd  avenues, 
That  once  admitted  all  the  joys  of  sense, 
To  feed  the  ravished  soul,  —  I  should  await 
The  end  with  gratitude.     Yet  even  Youth, 
And  the  fresh  love  that  crowns  its  sparkling  cup. 
May  find  some  comfort  in  the  dreaded  change, 
That  ever  threatens  us.     Bethink  ye  both, — 
No  cold  satiety,  which  mars  our  best 
Affections,  can  intrude  'twixt  us,  and  those 
Departed.     They  possess  our  holiest  moments. 
Our  spirits  rise  in  such  august  communion 


102  LYTERIA  : 

As  the  pure-hearted  hold  with  beings  loved ;  — 
The  friend  of  youth  torn  early  from  the  earth 
Departs  in  festal  garments.     He  shall  not 
Support  the  shrivell'd  livery  of  Age, 
Which  cloaks  the  fairest  forms  that  linger  here 
Till  night  compels  repose.     No  cloud  is  sent 
That  does  not  hide  some  blessing. 

CTJRTIUS. 

The  soul,  wrapt 

In  her  despair,  rejects  all  human  comfort! 
Divorced  from  Earth !     Who  can  resign  the  form 
Through  which  we  hold  our  treasure,  and  yet  feel 
A  claim  to  it  survives  ?     But  man  can  quell 
Such  doubting :  —  and  I  do  it ;  —  For  the  Will, 
Which  conquers  gates  of  brass  and  battlements, 
That  melt  Time's  clutch  to  love's  caress,  should 

sway 

The  subject  mind.     I  only  know  the  city 
Demands  my  life — I  feel  the  privilege 
Of  such  high  service.     To  the  Temple,  then, 
There  to  announce  my  purpose,  and  begin 
The  solemn  service,  fit  for  the  last  night 
Of  Rome's   distress.     But,   dearest,   come   not 

thou ;  — 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  103 

I  must  not  see  thee,  standing  pale  and  fair, 
Amid  the  throng,  who  only  should  behold 
Such  sternness  as  becomes  their  chosen  chief. 
Thy  spirit,  love,  is  weary,  though  undaunted ; 
Seek  quiet,  and  if  rest  cannot  approach, 
Strength  shall  be  given  through  stillness;  — 
When  dawn  shall  tint  the  east,  we  meet  once 

more. 
Farewell  —  thy  prayer  —  thy  love  —  shall  nerve 

my  heart — 
I  will  believe  no  parting  is  forever. 

[Exeunt  Daslius  and  Curtius. 

LYTERIA. 

Yes !  —  we  have  parted :  —  Now  the  stifled  sob 
May  join  the  dirge,  that  though  these  wind-swept 

pines, 

Bewails  the  perish'd  day ;  — Why  flow  these  tears 
Denied  in  greater  need  ?     Is  he  not  true 
Even  as  love  imag'd  him?     Yes!  I  have  gain'd 
All — all  —  the  Gods  commanded! 

The  brave  chief, 

Fighting  to  save  his  country,  little  wrecks 
The  wound  where  life  fasts  ebbs.     And  thus  to 

me, 


104  LYTERIA  : 

Feeling  was  sunk  in  action,  —  but  that  o'er, 
The  buried  shaft  wakes  the  dull'd  sense  to  torture. 
"  No  parting  is  forever ! "     But  the  change 
Wrought  in  our  higher  state,  —  that  is  my  dread. 
Will  he  not  there  exceed  all  earthly  progress, 
And  so  be  far  removed  from  all  Jfeel, 
When  called  to  join  him  ?     I  ask  not  a  purer, 
A  nobler  soul,  than  here  possesses  Marcus,  — • 
But  for  himself,  unstripp'd  of  e'en  the  faults, 
That  hang  about  him,  and  endear  to  one 
Conscious  of  kindred  weakness. 


But  little  fit  the  delegate  of  Jove, 
Whom  Heaven  itself  shall  succor.  Men  will  speak 
My  constancy  ;  and  praise  a  sacrifice 
So  dead'ning.     Praise  of  men !  —  Why  do  I  try 
Such  empty  comfort?     In  those  burning  hours, 
When  first  my  love  was  answer'd, — how  despised 
The  censure  or  the  praise  of  all  save  him ! 
Oh  cruel  fate  !  —  to  grant  such  thrilling  joy, 
As  youth's  quick  fancy  hardly  dared  to  dream, 
And  then  to  tear  it  from  the  quivering  heart 
Fed  by  its  presence !  —  I  may  save  him  yet, 
By  hurrying  to  the  Temple  to  deny 
The  awful  inspiration!  — 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  105 

And,  with  some  frantic  gesture,  or  rude  cry, 
Shout  to  the  crowd,  that  not  the  voice  divine, 
But  madness  spoke  this  last  demand  of  Jove!  — 
Could  wasting  fasts,  or  heaven-wearying  prayer 
Gain  pardon  for  such  sin  ?    No  —  crime  like  this. 
Mocking  all  expiation,  still  would  dog 
Our  flying  steps  —  itself,  a  great  avenger. 

Ye  helping  beings,  whom,  unseen,  I  feel 

In  the  soft  breath  of  evening,  gently  bear  me 

Through  the  dark  path  I  travel.     Till  the  last, 

May  every  selfish  feeling  be  subdued 

To  his  support  and  comfort.     And  oh  Thou! 

Whose  ways  we  know  so  little,  yet  whose  love 

"We  feel,  but  cannot  fathom  —  save  thy  child 

In  this  first  night  of  wedlock,  —  and  the  last! 


End  of  Act  IV. 


106  LYTERIA : 


ACT  V. 

The  Forum —  The   Gulf  is  seen  at  the  back  — 
A  broken  Altar  on  the  right. 

Time  —  before  sunrise. 
Prothus  and   Aulus   discovered. 

PROTHUS. 
What  mockery !     To  wreathe  with  flowers  the 

shrine, 
Shiver'd  by  Him  for  whom  its  victims  bled. 

AULUS. 
Nay,  from  the  altar   touch'd   by   Jove's    great 

wrath, 
When  first  it  shook  the  earth,  thanks  for  the 

grace 

That  now  redeems  our  lives,  may  well  ascend. 
Place  here  the  fruit ;  —  this  fallen  bud  must  join 
Its  blooming  sister;  —  so  —  all  things  are  done, 
As  Doelius  commanded:  — 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  107 


Does  no  sign 


Of  morning  tint  the  east? 


PROTHTTS. 

Yes,  a  faint  gray, 

The  herald  of  the  dawn,  struggles  with  darkness. 
The  moon  grows  paler!    It  should  near  the  time 
When  our  sad  priests  lead  Curtius  to  the  place, 
His  deed  shall  consecrate.     The  noisome  mists, 
Now  harmless,  weigh'd  to  earth,  rise  with  the  sun, 
And  shut  from  Rome  his  daily  benediction. — 
Then,  must  the  gift  be  offer'd.     Will  the  bride 
Witness  the  sacrifice  ? 

AULUS. 

While  Curtius  treads 
The  bitter  remnant  of  his  glorious  path, 
She  will  be  with  him; — even  to  the  gulf 
Where  she  must  pour  her  being.    None  can  tell, 
If  Fate,  that  forfeits  her  best  life  to  Rome, 
Will  grant  a  poor  remainder,  and  permit 
The  widowed  heart  to  waste  through  years  of 

silence, 

Or  lavish  (prodigal  in  sacrifice) 
A  gift  unask'd  by  Heaven. 


108  LYTEHIA  : 

PROTHUS. 

Well  hast  thou  read 

Her  purpose.  —  She  is  here  —  What  deadly  calm 
Lives  in  her  marble  brow !     Such  trust  is  not 
Of  earth's  philosophies  ;  it  is  His  gift, 
Who  calls  the  soul  to  trial.     Mark  her  eyes ; 
They  seem  to  gaze  where  Cynthia's  light  aids  not 
Their  delicate  function. 

AULUS. 

She  is  still  upheld 

By  an  unearthly  presence,  which  exalts 
Nature  to  bear  its  agonies  with  patience. 

(Enter  Lyteria.) 

Daughter,  we  would  say,  welcome  —  but  the  word 
Melts  into  air  unutter'd  ;  for  thy  approach, 
More  than  the  blushing  east,  tells  of  the  day 
Rome  dreads  —  yet  longs  to  know. 


LYTERIA. 


Dismiss  all  greeting: 


In  sacred  silence,  rather,  mark  with  me, 
How  Heaven's  vast  machinery,  unsway'd 
By  mortal  grief,  hymns  its  august  contriver! 
Its  majesty  of  motion  is  not  urged 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  109 

By  the    sharp   cry  wrung   from   the   drowning 

wretch, 

Who  gasps  for  day  to  clutch  the  plank  of  safety  ; 
Nor  can  those,  dreading  light,  that  brings  them 

darkness, 

Stay,  for  a  single  instant,  Phoebus'  wheels 
In  their  appointed  course.     Yet  we,  who  feel 
What  great  necessity  rules  nature's  force, 
Must  know  a  peace  sublime,  and  ev'ry  heart 
Should  tame  its  pulses  to  that  solemn  beat, 
Which  strikes  the  measure  in  the  constant  march 
Of  universal  order. 

AULUS. 

Thy  brave  words 

Declare  the  night  has  wrought  a  holy  comfort. 
Earth's  baffled  hopes  and  disappointed  loves 
Are  our  best  teachers.     They  exalt  the  soul, 
(So  we  receive  them  rightly,)  and  refine 
Our  grosser  passion  to  such  pure  desire, 
As,  shrinks  from  sense,  to  know  its  best  fulfilment. 

• 

LYTERIA. 

How  many  sleepers,  plagued  by  fever'd  dreams, 


110  LYTER1A: 

Have  been  the  sport  of  fancies  black  as  mine ; 
Yet  soon  the  sun,  waking  our  world  to  gladness, 
Dispels  these  visions;  so  a  day  shall  come, 
In  whose  pure  brightness  mine  must  all  dissolve, 
And  I  shall  know  their  meaning. 

AULUS. 

Thy  soul  is  borne 

Above  the  woes  of  sense.     May  nothing  call 
It  earthward,  to  resume  its  painful  vesture ! 

PROTHUS. 

The  air  teems  solemn  music,  such  as  waits 
Our  greatest  captains  to  their  monuments. 
A  throng  of  eager  life,  in  confused  mass, 
Crowds  to  this  place.     The  ancient  steel,  so  long 
Unused,  gleams  at  the  front.    Rome's  noblest  son 
Supports  it! 

LYTERIA. 

Yes!  'Tis  true.     Leave  me  not,  Aulus  — 
A  chill  steals  through  me  —  Night's  dank  dew 
Strikes  on  my  cheek  ;  or  is 't  fear's  icy  drops 
That  chill  me !     Help  me  now,  ye  ministers 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  Ill 

Of  strength,  whom  I  believe  are  near!    An  hour 

gone  — 

There's  nothing  left  to  pray  for  — 
(Enter  Curtius,  Lucius,  and  Dalius,  followed  by 
priests,  nobles,  and  a  crowd  of  citizens.) 

LUCIUS. 

Marcus,  thy  hand  ; 

1  could  not  clasp  it  with  a  greater  pride, 
If  redden'd  by  the  blood  of  every  foe 
Who  doubts  our  Roman  valor.     Had  thy  sire 
Xiived  to  behold  this  deed,  paling  those  feats 
Which  wreath'd  thy  boyish  brow  with  leaves  of 

oak,  — 

He  would  have  wept,  even  as  I  do  now, 
With  joy  to  bless  the  nobleness  he  father'd. 

DCELIUS. 
Though  faintly  sounds  the  weak  applause  of 

men, 

To  that  approving  voice  within  the  soul, 
Whose    praise    out-tongues    all   flattery,  —  yet 

must  Rome 

Show  sign  of  gratitude  ;  —  lauding  herself 
In  her  most  valued  son.  Thou  art  blest,  Marcus — 


112  LYTERIA  : 

Blest  in  each  breath  our  people  safely  draw.  — 
Give  grateful  echo  with  your  voices,  friends, 
To  what  I  poorly  speak  in  your  behalf. 
(Great  Shouting.) 

CURTIUS. 

Your  favor  is  most  welcome  ;  yet  let  it  speak 
Only  in  whisper'd  prayer,  for  strength  to  leave 
All  I  have  cherish'd  here,  to  Rome's  protection. 
Give  me  such  heavy  moments  as  remain, 
To  breathe  some  words  of  parting  to  the  heart, 
That  first  declared  the  ransom  heaven  ordained. 

Once  more  let  me  regard  thee.  —  Nay — expose 
Thy  features  to  the  placid  light  that  smooths 
Time's  furrows,  or  the  deeper  lines  of  grief. 
I  would  impress  thee  in  my  memory ; 
So  when  the  sense,  which  feeds  upon  thee  here, 
Be  press'd  'neath  death's  cold  signet,  (as  it  shall,) 
A  kind  remembrance  may  restore  thy  form, 
As  now  't  is  pictured,  and  to  my  waked  soul 
Temper  the  strangeness  of  futurity. 

LYTERIA. 

The  flowers  that  spring  to  bless  our  earthly  walk, 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  113 

Breathe  their  rich  odors  through  Night's  thickest 

veil  — 

Then,  never  doubt  the  spirit  hath  a  sense 
To  hold  what  once  it  loved ;  although  the  cheek 
That  glow'd  affection's  answer,  wastes  in  death 
Or  pales  through  weary  years  of  solitude. 

CURTIUS. 

Yes  ;  as  the  soul  draws  near  enfranchisement. 
Truth  is  reveal'd  that  life's  thick  fancies  screen'd. 
No  longer  rack'd  by  superstitious  fear, 
I  feel  a  calmness  as  the  stroke  descends, 
To  sever  earth's  strong  tie  ;  — inspired  to  know 
That  Love  may  warm  the  icy  stream  of  death 
And  fill  the  timorous  heart  with  trustfulness. 

LYTERIA. 

'T  is  not  unlike  that  as  we  leave  this  clay, 
Whose  aches  and  mortal  need  have  sometimes 

turn'd 

Man's  love  to  fretful  doubt,  we  shall  divest 
The  soul  from  all  the  grossness  which  prevents 
That  perfect  union  —  the  young  dream  of  love  — 
Earth  was  not  meant  to  realize.    Our  brave  deeds 
Shall  there  attest  passion's  exalting  power, 
8 


114  LYTERIA  : 

Which  here  is  often  wreck'd  on  honied  speech, 
That  tells  our  love  — not,  lives  it. 

CURTIUS. 

Yet  Rome  knows 

'T  was  no  inglorious  life  I  purposed  here, 
Draining  existence  from  the  unpaid  earth : 
Each  day  would  have  recorded  some  new  act, 
That  thou  had'st  hail'd  exulting. 

LYTERIA. 

'Twas  well  plann'd. — 
Such  life  must  be  eternity's  best  prelude. — 
Yet,  deem  not  the  great  purposes  unwrought, 
In  this  our  primal  state,  fail  of  their  fruitage. 
Think  rather,  each  desire  shall  know  fulfilment, 
When,  in  its  own  dim  twilight,  melts  the  earth, 
And  the  bright  flash  that  shows  the  Thunderer's 

face 

Shall  display  work  of  greater  nobleness, 
Than  by  the  shrouded  light  that  guides  us  here, 
Our  sense  can  look  on. 

CURTIUS. 

Words  of  hope  suit  well 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  115 

The  breaking  day,  which  lends  a  radiance 
To  plainest  robes  borne  on  the  breast  of  nature. 
The  bird's  sweet  matin  rings  so  full  of  life, 
That  man  must  learn  contentment  in  those  notes. 
Which  charm  to  sleep  each  doubting  thought  of 

death, 
With  heaven's  persuasion. 

LYTERIA. 

The  young  dawn 
Gives  freshness  to   the   earth  with   such  large 

bounty, 

That  all  must  drink  some  portion  of  the  trust 
Which  fills  with  calmness  the  unreasoning  world ; 
Yet  as  the  east  warms  to  its  coming  lord, 
I  feel  it  draws  such  color  from  my  cheek, 
As  the  stern  night  has  left.     But  do  not  heed 
This  paleness  ;  for  the  blood,  leaving  the  face, 
Flies  .warmly  to  the  heart,  giving  it  strength 
To  suffer. 

AULUS. 

'Gainst  my  will,  I  must  announce 
The  moment  of  thy  glory.  —  Clearest  stars 
Dissolve  themselves  in  light,  and  the  foul  breath 


116  LYTERIA  : 

Of  Earth,  hungry  for  havoc,  soon  will  rise. 
The  Consul,  and  the  Father  of  thy  wife, 
Wait  at  the  altar  ready  to  pronounce 
Rome's  last  farewell  and  blessing. 

CURTIUS. 

I  am  prepared 

To  meet  them,  though  the  sun  yet  faintly  shows 
His  coming. 

Ye  grave  men,  whom  I  have  ever 
Reverenced,  and  who  show,  through  the  forced 

sternness 

Which  holds  the  face  from  imaging  the  heart, 
That  human  fondness  cannot  all  be  quench'd 
Even  when  Heaven  wills  it ;  —  Briefly  speak 
The  words  of  parting;  —  or  still  better,  clasp 
This  hand  in  silence  —  't  is  our  best  farewell. 

DCELIUS. 
Silence  may  well  be  ours,  —  since  Time's  deep 

voice, 

Which  ever  speaks  with  truth's  grand  emphasis, 
Shall,  in  its  mighty  chorus,  swell  thy  name 
Down  through  the  list'ning  ages.     Noble  men 
Shall  deem  their  honor  surest,  when  like  thee, 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  117 

They  yield  themselves  an  offering  for  their  race. 
And  not  alone  the  sacrifice  of  life 
Shall  give  this  glory.  —  He  who  strives  to  cleanse 
The  time  from  popular  error, —  He  who  speaks 
Against  some  blighting  wrong  which  men  delight 
To  cherish, — these  brave  souls, —  scoff'd  and 

despis'd 

By  those  for  whom  they  labor,  —  shall  receive 
Thy  name  as  highest  praise,  when  other  times 
Shall  hail  their  sacrifice,  as  Rome  hails  thine. 

CURTIUS. 

If  in  your  memory  my  name  shall  live, 
Let  it  be  join'd  with  hers  who  nobly  spoke 
The  words  of  heaven,  and  urged  me  to  fulfil  them. 
If  she  had  blenched,  —  I  had  not  stood  here  now. 

LUCIUS. 

Woman's  brave  deeds  are  never  recompensed 
From  the  world's  mint  of  homage.     She  receives 
Only  the  praise  (too  oft  but  faintly  spoke) 
Of  him  she  leads  to  honor  ;  for  her  sphere 
Is  far  removed  from  the  red  field  of  Life, 
Where  Man  is  form'd  to  combat.     They  are  few 


118  LYTERIA  : 

Who  read  in  Fame's  bright  chronicle  of  worth, 

Unwritten  praise  of  that  devoted  friend 

Who  smooth'd  the  path  of  duty.     Yet  tho'  the 

world 

To  greatest  action  still  denies  applause, 
We,  who  have  known  Lyteria,  must  proclaim 
Such  nobleness  the  richest  legacy 
Our  champion  leaves  the  city  he  has  saved. 

DCELIUS. 

See,  yonder  threat'ning  cloud  is  edged  with  fire, 
Showing  the  sign  of  promise,  —  while  it  tells 
The  time  .has  come  for  parting. 

CURTIUS. 

I  accept 

The  omen.  —  Ye  tried  friends,  adieu.  —  Adieu, 
Fair  city,  for  whose  sake  I  had  been  proud 
To  live.     And  thou  —  no  —  no  —  a  last  farewell 
Shall  never  pass  between  us. —  We  shall  meet  — 
And  for  no  separation:  —  Whence  this  thrills 
Through  all  my  lighten'd  being  is  unknown ; 
But  as  our  sense  closes  to  sounds  of  Earth, 
Voices  divine  strike  inward  : 


A   DRAMATIC    POEM.  119 

Now  the  mist 

Steals  upward.  The  dark  shroud  awaits  a  tenant ; 
I  wrap  myself  in  its  malignant  folds  — 
The  latest  victim  it  shall  snatch  from  Rome  ! 

LYTERIA. 

Nay,  but  an  instant ;  —  One  last  look  of  love  — 
No  !  I  will  stay  thee  not.     Phoebus  is  yet 
Concealed  —  Yon  ruddy  beam,  that  faintly  tints 
The  cloud,  shoots  not  from  his  bright  chariot!  — 

D03LIUS. 

Hold  him  not,  daughter,  whom  the  Heavens  call. 
Thou  hast  been  brave  ;  let  not  our  mortal  fear 
Seize  on  thee  now,  to  dim  the  former  trust, 
Which  sheds  a  lustre  on  the  sacred  act, 
That  shall  redeem  us  from  the  wrath  divine. 

LYTERIA. 

Yes !  I  am  well  reminded  —  Curtius  —  go  — 
Nay —  I  will  lead  thee  to  the  embrace  of  fame, 
Which  \voos  thee  to  herself.    Look  not  on  me  — 
A  worthier  mistress  claims  Rome's  noblest  son  j 
Yes  —  I  am  happy  —  Do  not  say  farewell  - 
But  —  Marcus  —  leap  to  glory ! 


120  LTTERIA : 

(As  the  sun  rises,  Curtius  plunges  into  the 
gulf,  which  closes  upon  him.  Lyteria  remains 
motionless  for  some  moments,  and  then  falls  upon 
the  earth.} 

LUCIUS. 

Jove  receives 

Our  offering.  —  The  city  lives  again, — • 
And  not  too  dearly  are  the  Gods  appeas'd. 
While  from  this  altar  thanks  are  render'd  Heaven, 
Let  every  ransom'd  bosom  echo  them. 

AULUS. 

Pray  you,  regard  Lyteria;  see,  she  falls  — 
The  poison'd  shaft,  unspent,  has  struck  her  life. 

PROTHUS. 

Nay,  'tis  but  faintness,  she  will  breathe  again  — 
For  sorrow,  ever  impotent  in  death, 
Still  moulds  the  face. 

AULUS. 

I  fear  the  final  sigh 

Has    parted    those   white   lips.  —  Who  would 
recall  her! 


A    DRAMATIC    POEM.  121 

DCELIUS. 

/ —  I  must  claim  her  being.     Dearest  child, 
Sole  comforter  and  solace  of  my  age, 
Leave  me  not  thus  —  A  little  longer  bless 
This  fainting  soul.     Give  not  such  bitter  end 
To  the  spent  life,  which  deadens  at  thy  absence. — 
Ye  Gods,  whom  I  have  worshipp'd  —  spare  me 
this! 

LUCIUS. 

Be  patient,  Dcelius  :  Still  she  seems  to  breathe,  — 
She  will  be  spared  to  thee.  See,  this  bright  blade, 
Held  to  her  lips,  is  tarnish' d. 

DCELIUS. 

No,  'tis  dull'd 
But  by  the  hand  that  clasp'd  it.     She  is  gone ! 

Creator  Jove,  by  whose  command  the  fibres 
Of  this  worn  heart  enclosed  another  being, 
Pardon  the  prayer  o'erburthen'd  nature  spoke! 
Be  dumb,  thou  mighty  grief!  —  lest  the  still  air 
Repeat  my  cry  to  the  escaping  soul, 
And  call  it  back  to  suffer.     Here  I  bend 
To  Heaven's  will.  — I  am  forsaken. 


122  LYTERIA : 

LYTERIA. 

(Supported  by  Lucius  and  Aulus  seems  to  hear 
the  last  words  of  her  Father.  She  sloivly  re 
vives,  looks  tenderly  upon  Datlius,  and  after 
some  moments  raises  herself  and  speaks.} 

Not  so, 

My  father;  I  return  to  lend  what  light 
Affection  may  bestow  to  the  dull'd  sense 
Of  age.    Forgive  thy  child,  that,  stunn'd  by  grief 
So  bitter,  the  rash  soul  striving  with  Fate, 
Shook  off  the  chain  that  binds  us  all  to  earth, 
And  clinging  to  his  heart,  which  held  its  life, 
Rush'd  to  the  verge  of  being.     I  have  near'd 
Those  precincts,  where  none  tied  to  carnal  life, 
May  enter.     But  some  influence  repell'd 
The  soul,  not  destin'd  to  put  off  its  poor 
Mortality.     Yet  brought  so  near  the  state 
Of  the  enlighten'd,  I  have  drank  their  teachings. 
I  saw  the  blessedness  of  him,  who  serves 
The  majesty  of  conscience  with  his  life, 
And  yields  what,  in  the  name  of  Deity, 
This  monitor  demands.     Some  must  endure 
The  torture  of  the  flesh,  destin'd  to  wean 
Man  from  the  life  he  clings  to; —  Others,  call'd 


A   DRAMATIC   POEM.  123 

By  duty,  bare  the  breast  to  the  quick  shaft, 
Which  ever  seeks  the  savior  of  his  race ;  — 
And  those  there  are,  who  meekly  must  perform 
An  unapplauded  service  of  the  soul, 
And  wait  for  time's  relief. 

The  grief  of  Rome 

Call'd  for  the  death  of  Curtius; — The  last  years 
Of  him  whom  most  I  reverence,  and  the  care 
That  I  am  bless'd  to  render  those  cast  out 
From  the  world's  sympathy,  demand  my  being. 
Duty — not  self-imposed — asks  man's  submission. 
With  what  devotion  he  discharged  his  part, 
Ye  are  the  witnesses.     Pray  that  some  share 
Of  his  great  strength  descend  upon  the  heart 
Chosen  from  all  the  world  to  know  him  best. 
Our  Curtius  died  for  Rome.     Receive  thy  child; 
Father! —  I  lire  for  thee. 


THE  END. 


